


Echoed Songs

by RiftRaft



Series: I Hear Him Scream Universe [3]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: AU, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Brotherly Love, Dragon Hiccup, Dragon!hiccup, Drama, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Magical Realism, Mystery, Original Character(s), PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Drama, Transformation, Trauma, post-transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 162,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiftRaft/pseuds/RiftRaft
Summary: The war is over, the nightmare faded. Yet moving on is not so simple when the monstrosities of the past bleed into the present. With war descending anew in the wake of a mysterious, unseen threat, the peace Hiccup and Toothless so desperately seek spirals further and further out of reach. SEQUEL TO I HEAR HIM SCREAM.





	1. Chapter 1

****

**Echoed Songs**

**The Sequel to _I Hear Him Scream_**

**Chapter 1**

Toothless

The peace was the strangest part of it all.

It was a soothing, enveloping thing; a warming fire that heals in the most frigid depths of winter. In its unexpected embrace, the very world seemed to be more full of life. The air was crisp and clean, no longer smoggy and choking with the smoke of war-fire. Every creature, from lowly sheep to proud dragon, seemed to move with more of a bounce in their step. Nature itself seemed to have blossomed, pouring into the earth vibrant colors and rich smells, the spring song of birds and insects seemingly ever-present.

Yet it was also a looming threat, a feeling of being watched by something lurking in the darkness. A sinking stone seemed to have plunged into the stomachs of every creature that had taken note of this change. It was almost as if every breath needed to be held in anticipation, waiting for tensions to finally snap. It was a piece of driftwood flung among a crashing ocean, seconds from being overtaken and swept away, leaving no trace behind. It _had_ to be temporary. It simply _couldn’t_ hold.

Because dragons and humans, after hundreds of years, had found a way to coexist.

It was still impossible to believe. The world had radically shifted underfoot, forcing even the sturdiest to trip over themselves. It had happened fast—so, _so_ fast—and yet, unlike most sudden changes, this was not necessarily something to be resented. The north, once a blazing inferno of war and fear and agony, almost seemed calm.

It had been a little over a full turning of the moon since the fall of the Queen and Hiccup’s reversion back into a human.

I had no idea what to make of this new world.

**o.O.o**

Of all the problems that Hiccup and I had faced since being permanently grounded, a loss of stealth was not one of them.

“Not that I don’t love elaborate games of hide-and-seek, Toothless, but…I think we’ve actually got to deal with this one.”

I shot a look over my shoulder at Hiccup, who was lying on my back and staring up at the stars. “But we _just_ got here,” I complained, even though that wasn’t exactly true. For some time, we had been resting on one of the tallest tree-caves in the nest, nestled just below a huge metal thing that Hiccup called a “bell”.

Hiccup twisted around and sat up so that he could grasp onto my neck. His eyes flicked up to the moon to check the time. “I’ve been trying to think of a way around this—but I don’t think we’re gonna win this one. Not like this.” He looked down, face cast in shadow. “I mean, not that we would _ever_ win anything like this.”

I hummed in reluctant agreement and looked out over our nest. The moonlight painted everything in a dark blue, making the island almost appear to be ocean waves. Dragons were settling down, huddled together for warmth on just about any elevated surface they could. Small orange specks dotting the landscape were the only indications that humans were present. Even for Vikings, it was far too cold to stay outside without there being a dire need.

“Can’t we stay here until morning?” I whined. I was quite content here, where it was nice and calm and humans weren’t around to force us into ridiculous situations that had no benefit at all.

Hiccup leaned over and batted at my nose. “Come on, Toothless,” he said. “Let’s just get this over with.”

With a sigh, I gathered my legs underneath me and stood up. Taking a quick moment to look below, I crouched, waited for Hiccup to brace himself, and then launched us towards the earth. There were a few seconds of glorious freefall—then I opened my wings right before we landed to soften the impact. I hit the ground light on my paws and slid into a light jog. Hiccup shifted his weight accordingly, holding tight onto my neck with his legs and front paws.

The moon was high enough above that we were forced to stay low, ducking from shadow to shadow. The tree-caves seemed to close in, giant towers leering down at us. Hiccup made himself small on my back as I darted through the maze of the Viking nest, wary of firelight that signaled humans nearby. Dragons roosting among the tree-caves peered down at us with a curiosity and amusement, but did their best not to draw attention to us.

Hiccup gave a small hiss and shifted his weight to the side. I swung my tail and scampered in the direction he’d leaned towards, pinning my ears to listen to who he had seen.

“…not really sure, sorry. Maybe try where the dragons are flocking? Or maybe…”

We swerved between several more tree-caves, keeping close to their edges so as not to be in the open. As we went I passed by an inconsistency—a small tunnel between two of them. I halted, drawing a surprised yelp from Hiccup, and backed up to look into it. At its outlet were trees; it was the forest that bordered the Viking nest named “Berk”.

Perfect! We could finally get out of this gods-forsaken nest! More than happy to escape into some sort of refuge, I snapped forward—

—and immediately felt the wood-caves clamp down on my wings and shoulders, forcing me to a sudden and painful stop.

Hiccup fell forward and sprawled head over tail across the ground. Rolling on his back, he groaned, “ _Toothless!_ ”

“Sorry,” I grunted. I tried to brace my front paws, but I could barely move. My shoulders and wings remained lodged between the tree-nests.

Hiccup sat up, setting all four of his paws against the ground. He hesitated and then rose to his hind legs, still just a little wobbly with his metal leg. As he stood, he held his arms out like they were wings, almost moving about as a crippled Two-Walker does. He blinked at me for a second, and then a grin split across his face as realization set in.

I shot him a look. “Don’t even—“ I tried again to yank myself out of the wedge, failing just as much as before. “—start with—“ Pushing my weight into my hind legs, I strained backwards as hard as I could, tail thrashing. “— _that!_ ”

Hiccup collapsed with laughter. I moaned and dropped my head.

“So much for stealth,” Hiccup teased, hobbling forward in an unsteady gait and grabbing my neck in his little paws. He squared his feet and pulled _into_ the tunnel as hard as he could, which wasn’t much. I stopped and then pushed forward myself, digging my claws into the soil.

Besides some useless scrabbling, nothing changed.

Hiccup let up and managed to hold back another laugh. “I guess you live here now,” he snickered, placing his paws on his hips.

“Oh, wonderful,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Will you at least bring me some sauce to brighten my day?”

A little bit of the light in his eyes dimmed, accentuating the bruise-like bags underneath his eyes. “Hm,” Hiccup said, forcing his smile now. Too quick for me to do anything, he stepped around my head and scrabbled across my back. “Let’s try this instead. You know,“ he grunted as he began pushing at my rump, “I really _could_ say something about how you earned this from pinning me with your fat butt all the time.”

“Oh, like all those times _weren’t_ your fault!” I said, gouging clawmarks into the dirt. I couldn’t help but cast a furtive glance above us. If our nestmates saw us like this...their _Kings_ , defeated by a small passage! I drooped with embarrassment at the thought.

“Mhm.” Hiccup groaned as he did his best—even though it didn’t do much, the gods bless him. “You know, I could probably get someone to help us…”

“ _No!_ ” I gasped, redoubling my efforts. It didn’t work—my front legs were too constricted to be of any use, and my shoulders and wings were jammed in fairly well.

“Well okay then, Mr. Hard Way,” Hiccup drawled. “Maybe I could get some oil somewhere, or maybe we can try and get your wings dislodged, or I’ll bet that _oh hi Dad!_ ”

I jolted upright, ears raised. Hiccup at first clamped his paws down like he was going to climb up onto my back. Then his grip loosened and he moved his paws away, effectively disappearing and leaving me alone. My chest tightened and my heart began to hammer.

I grew very still.

“Hiccup,” the King sighed, far closer than I’d ever expected.

There was a long, horrible silence. Hiccup leaned into me.

“Um, hey Dad, uh, nothing like a nice midnight stroll, right?”

The King lost his patience. “Hiccup, you can’t keep doing this!” He snapped. “Both of you, disappearing the _moment_ —“

He suddenly stopped, taking in a deep breath.

I felt his eyes searing into my back. Hiccup leaned further into me.

“Is he stuck?”

“U-uh…yeah.”

Two paws wrapped around my midsection. My heart leapt into my throat. I gasped and tried to wrench away, tail swinging.

With a heave, the King all but flung me backwards, ripping me free.

I stumbled and shook myself, hissing at the soreness left behind in my shoulders. Hiccup rushed to my side, eyes wide as he worried over my wings with gentle pokes and prods. I leaned forward with a comforting purr, pressing my cheek against his.

A noise off to my right—and I whipped around towards the King. The moon was behind him, casting him in shadow. Behind him, dragons were poking their heads over wood-caves, eyes narrowed and wings half-opened. The King met my eyes, and I made sure to keep my head high and my gaze steady.

 _I_ was a King, too. _We_ were Kings, and we could walk wherever or whenever we pleased in _our_ territory.

…even if the circumstances were, admittedly, _not_ for leisurely “midnight strolls”. As cowardly and immature as it was, we had spent all day and night playing an endless game of “extreme hide-and-seek” with the King.

The King started to speak, only to stop himself. He looked conflicted and guilty, like he was only here because he knew he had to even though he felt wholly unwelcome. I _truly_ wanted to be proud that we made him just as uncomfortable as he made us.

Instead, it just made me feel disappointed and sullen, like digging up something that smelled nice only for it to be inedible. It was _so_ aggravating. But everything wasn’t black and white, no matter how hard I wanted it to be.

“…we’re fairly close to home,” the King finally said. “Let’s speak on the way there.”

Hiccup and I exchanged a glance. Hiccup was cringing in the way fledglings did when they knew they’d been caught troublemaking, but there was also something else in his eyes. Not quite fear, but that intimidated look he’d used to give me what felt like eons ago, when we were trapped in the cove and I had been spending the better part of my time being a complete asshole towards him.

“We could still run,” I whispered to him, but did not gesture under the King’s keen eye.

Hiccup didn’t respond. He _couldn’t_ respond.

The King gently patted Hiccup on the shoulder to get him to move. Hiccup flinched away from his paw and closer to me, and the King turned his head to hide a grimace.

As we began to walk, a pit opened in my heart, and I leaned heavily into Hiccup’s shoulder. I tried to look calm and collected.

“Don’t worry,” Hiccup murmured when we were halfway there, “I’m sure it won’t be _that_ bad.”

It had been enough for us to avoid the King since sunrise…although I appreciated the optimism.

Yet that wasn’t what had me on edge. I forced a smile for Hiccup, finding it difficult not to urge him onto my back just so I knew he was _safe._

The King was the least of my worries.

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

“Well would ya look who it is! And here I was thinkin’ ya pulled one of yer famous vanishin’ acts again!”

Toothless huffed in that really loud, exaggerated way that meant _I told you so_.

Dad kept a firm grip around my arm, dragging me right along into the forge. “No, he will _not_ be doing that today. Make sure he actually stays put this time, Gobber.”

I shuddered at the scent of metal and coal and not-so-subtly tried to pry his fingers off of me. Toothless gave a soft hiss behind us.

My longtime mentor set down the axe he’d been sharpening, flipped up the flimsy eye guard he used when he actually decided to follow basic safety protocol, and sauntered forward with a grin. “You say that like I’m bad at it,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen? He runs off and gets turned into a dragon again?”

I grimaced and sneaked a peek up at Dad. He looked just about as unamused by the joke as I expected him to be...not that Gobber cared at all about inappropriate jokes. The firelight glinting off of his eyes only served to make his trademark “disappointed scowl” all the more disappointed-y and scowl-like.

“Welp, I guess I should, uh, get to work?” I interjected before Gobber could open his mouth and make the already-bad situation worse. “Thanks for the... _escort_ , Dad.”

Dad _finally_ let go of my arm and faced me. His eyes softened, and he took on that gentle tone of voice that I still hadn’t gotten used to. “Just _try_ , Hiccup. I know you’ve been having trouble with…this,” he gestured at all of me, “but it’s time that we try to get some sense of normalcy back. Nothing will get better if we don’t.”

“ _And_ I’ve been up to my hook in overdue work!” Gobber said. Suddenly his arm snapped out and grabbed me, pulling me towards the interior.

Panic shot through my body. I yelped, ripping away, my fingers bending like claws. Toothless growled.

Gobber paused for just a second, his cool demeanor breaking.

He let go and went on anyways, “We’ve got some serious catchin’ up to do, so don’t you worry about anythin’, Stoick. I’m yer top man!”

Dad’s eyes lingered on mine for a few more seconds before he nodded. “Right—I’ll be off then. I’ll see you tonight, Hiccup. Work hard.”

I just wanted to leave, to stop this constant game of “pretend everything is fine” even as everything got more and more _not_ fine.

“You know it,” I sighed instead, looking away and reaching out to Toothless. He put his nose to my hand and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with me, casting furtive glances around the soot-filled smithy. I tried to scent the air, only to frown when I remembered that it didn’t do me as much good as it used to.

Dad gave a terse nod. He turned and walked away, off to do his Chiefly duties. He’d been speaking about a fishing expedition earlier, so I knew he’d be heading down to the docks. Watching him go was so strange; I was both relieved and disappointed. Although I guess that could sum up how I felt about my entire life.

“Alright, right to it!” Gobber said, snapping me back to the present. He threw me a pair of “safety goggles” that consisted of some metal with slits in it and a leather strap. I tried to grab it the _wrong_ way by leaning forward, opening my mouth, and pawing at it. The result was me batting it away.

Toothless lunged for it, grabbed it in his teeth, and then handed it to me. I grasped at it with clumsy hands, staring down at my fingers.

The entire incident went right over Gobber’s head, who had produced a comically-long scroll and was currently rattling off _all_ the work that needed to be done. Catapults needed realigning, swords needed sharpening, metal needed treating, axes needed rebalancing, arrowheads needed refining, lunch needed making, helmets needed shining, kitchen cookware needed molding. On top of _all_ of that, nails and bolts needed forging and the carpenters needed help as well. Our nestmates had been accidentally breaking things all over the place, so much so that even Gobber had to help out.

Toothless made a surprised noise, nudging me and grinning in amusement. I couldn’t tell if he was making fun of me for all the work I had to do while he got to sit back and watch, or if he was impressed that I could do—or _used_ to be able to do—all the things on the list. His presence put me at ease, and I risked a small, quiet purr and pressed my cheek against his—a gesture he readily returned.

“What are ya doin’?” Gobber exclaimed, stopping short on his list. “If ya have time ta cuddle, ya have time to work!” He strode over, grabbed the “eye safety gear” from my hands, and shoved it onto my face.

The world was cast in shadow.

“Sharpen. Now.”

“What—”

Something heavy and metal was dropped in my arms, so unexpected that I nearly toppled forward. The eye gear barely let any light through, but I still saw it—I still saw the dull light glinting off of it, I still felt its cold sharpness.

I bared my teeth and hissed, tearing away from the sword and ripping the gear off. Chills raced down my spine, and I backpedaled until my back hit a wall. The sword and gear clattered to the floor.

Toothless snarled and smacked them away. He made the high-pitched croon he used when he was concerned, sniffing me up and down to check for injuries.

“I’m alright,” I whispered to him, shaking as fear and revulsion lunged from the darkness and clamped tight on my heart.

Immediately regret set in. I forced myself to take a few calming breaths. I waited until my the ache of my rushing heart dimmed, and stuttered to a surprised Gobber, “Sorry, it’s not…”

Gobber frowned down at me, worry creases lining his face. After a moment, he pulled a grin and pushed me towards the forge. “Eh, don’t worry about it—you do enough of that to give _me_ an ulcer,” he said. His voice became serious, but warm. “I’m just glad to have ya back, Hiccup. We all are.”

The panic faded at the familiarity of speaking with him, even as part of me hissed that nothing was like it used to be. I ducked my head with a small smile. “Thanks, Gobber. I really appreciate that.”

“Ya better be, because ya won’t be feelin’ so sentimental when I get ya to work!” He said, slapping down a huge list of work orders before me. “Now get to it!”

**o.O.o**

I learned very quickly that “getting to it” was _really_ hard when I could barely even manage to catch things anymore.

It had only been a few weeks since…everything happened. Even now, my biggest problem in Berk—besides the people—was adjusting to my new…old?...body.

Working as the blacksmith’s apprentice required a _lot_ of fine motor skill—all of which I had lost.

I was only now redeveloping the dexterity to draw and write, having just graduated from “chicken scratch” to “toddler scribbles”. I constantly forgot the wider range of movement my arms and legs had. I still had problems walking in a straight line without the balance I once had from my tail. I occasionally found myself swiveling my head back and forth to make up for the loss of bigger ears.

Writing notes and schematics down for Gobber was difficult and time-consuming, but he didn’t breathe down my neck as much as he normally would have. Jobs that involved detailed handiwork were completely out of the question. Sewing, using small tools, and adjustments were too difficult with my clumsy hands. For most orders, I was stuck handing Gobber things or holding tools for him.

It was so frustrating and disheartening, that yet _another_ thing that had once been part of _me_ was now gone. Part of me was devastated that my hands were almost as useless to me now as I had once been to the village. They were what made me unique, that gave me a sense of identity, in a Berk that had ridiculed my every step. I had once been able to draw, to build, to invent. Now I couldn’t even hold a needle. 

Yet working in the smithy seemed almost unnatural—like it was a foreign place to me now. I hadn’t needed to use hands for over a year because I didn’t _have_ them. Now _that_ part of me was the one I relied the most on. _That_ part of me screamed that there was something horribly wrong and alien with my new paws in the same way that I used to reject my tail and wings.

I was being tugged two ways, by two parts of me long-since lost to the past. It set me ill at ease, leaving a hole in my chest that sucked away at me.

By midday I was exhausted, physically and mentally. I’d been lifting and carrying things back and forth since the sun had risen and my hands were sore after their sudden, strenuous use. I felt like I’d flown for miles and just needed some rest. Toothless was even worse, pawing at his head and clenching his eyes shut. The sounds of the forge were already unbearably loud for _me;_ I hated to think about how much pain they caused him, no matter how well he pretended that they didn’t bother him.

“Now I won’t say anythin’ if you don’t,” Gobber was saying as I handed him supplies for a clasp on a basket, “but if ya need a little break, then feel free ta.”

“Wait, _you’re_ letting me have a _break?_ ” I exclaimed. I dropped the metal pieces, and the high ringing made Toothless flinch away with pinned ears. I took a second to make sure he was okay, and then I asked, “And what brought this momentous act of generosity on?”

Gobber gave me an unimpressed look. “Ya look like yer gonna pass out.”

That was completely…actually, it wasn’t too far from the mark. I _did_ feel a little lightheaded, but that was likely from the heat from the forge and the stress of the working all day. It was just as hot and crowded and dark and noisy as the nest, which I’d never grown accustomed to and…

I stammered an excuse even _I_ knew made no sense at Gobber, and he lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Mhm. I would rather _not_ have yer father go madder than a Terror at me for lettin’ ya get hurt. Be back in three minutes.”

…alright, so maybe not as generous as I thought.

Toothless was practically whining at this point, yanking on my shirt so hard that I thought it would rip. I started and looked down at him, ducking my head guiltily. I couldn’t force him to be in here any longer.

With a nod at Gobber, we hurried outside. I sat down just outside the door as Toothless curled up around me, careful to keep his tail out of the busy street. Our nestmates lounging on the rooftops gave happy greeting calls. On the other hand, many Vikings jumped away from us in alarm, forming a bubble of empty space around us.

The moment I sat down, exhaustion overcame me. I slumped against Toothless and closed my eyes, pretending not to feel the stares of all of the passersby.

“ _Hiccup?_ ” Toothless asked, one of the very few words I could recognize. He made his concerned noise and poked at me.

“Power nap,” I mumbled. The sound of the hustle and bustle of Berk swelled up around me. A huge pressure pinned my arms and legs, pushing me further and further away. Curling closer to Toothless, I allowed my tense muscles to relax.

Even through the foggy haze of my thoughts, I noted with surprise just how wound up I had been in there. With Gobber yammering on and on, it had almost felt…normal. Even though it couldn’t be further from that, not even with all of Dad’s efforts into making it _seem_ like it.

For what felt like many, many hours, I drifted in and out of unconsciousness as people chattered and dragons chirped and squawked at each other.

All it took was Toothless growling to draw me out of it.

I snapped upright, whipping my head around to try and find the threat. My eyes settled on a man standing before us, hand on the hilt of his sword and eyes blazing. He was huge and looming tall above us, leering down his nose at me. He stepped forward with clear, malicious intent.

My heart began to race. Toothless raised his wings and hissed a warning, one repeated by our observing nestmates above.

“What are _you_ doing near our weapons?” The man spat. He drew even closer, almost within striking distance.

“I—” I began, my mouth dry.

He drew his sword.

Berk warped around me.

The storage shed clamped down, locking me in darkness as my stomach crumpled from hunger, the fishing net tangled in my claws, and Dad charged me with a sword of his own.

No—he couldn’t—not again—!

I bolted to my feet, scurrying away from my father as my heart burst out of my chest. Toothless cried out to me, but he was so far away. Dad was begging me to prove that I was still me. People were shouting. Weapons were drawn. Dragons were snarling and scrabbling around. Dad was screaming at me that he would kill me if he ever saw me again.

The crowd moved away. The shed closed in. My heart burned. Dragons descended.

 _It’s not real_ , I told myself again. _It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real!_

I felt myself lifted up. My body shifted on its own will, holding on as tight as possible as wind raced past me. I couldn’t breathe—I was choking! I tried to suck in air that was too thin, like I’d flown up too high and was close to fainting. My stomach roiled and my limbs rattled as everything spun and spun out of control.

_It’s not real!_

But I couldn’t _breathe!_

Something else was controlling me, wrenching me around like a ragdoll. It buried my face into Toothless’ neck, digging my claws into his ears and side-frills. My heart thrashed about in my chest, shooting pain through me with each and every frantic beat. It was as if it was sending poison through my veins, ripping me up from the inside, tearing me apart!

I cowered and listened helplessly as a search party set out after me. I heard my father, directing them like he would a hunt for game, trying to sound in-control but voice tight with loss.

_It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not—_

“ _HICCUP!_ ”

I flinched away, curling into a ball and covering my ears as they rang. My arms were pushed away from my head. A second later something huge and slimy and wet was drawn across my face.

Disgust hit me first—and then awareness. My chest was stinging with every shallow, frantic breath. I was trembling all over. The grass I was lying on was soft, but still prickling me wherever skin was exposed. The sun above was blocked by a dappling of pine leaves, casting green light below.

I was also soaked with dragon saliva.

Wheezing, I looked up and blinked at Toothless hovering over me. The only sounds were our rapid breathing and the birds chirping above.

It took me a second to take him in. His wide eyes, pupils thin lines with terror. The way his ears and side-frills were pinned, his spine arched, his legs rattling, his wings opened as if he could take off right where he stood and carry me to a medicine dragon.

He made a high-pitched sound, a shrill squeal that cut off short. My breath hitched. I had never, _never_ , heard him make that noise before.

It just screamed with every ounce of horror and helplessness he felt: _Please tell me what’s wrong!_

“M’sorry,” I croaked, blinking rapidly as I tried to keep him—me—in the present.

Toothless drooped in relief. He lied down, curled his tail around, and covered me with a wing, blocking out the sun and the noise of…wherever we were. Just to be sure, he ran his tongue over my hair again and settled his head down besides mine, rumbling with a comforting purr. He clutched me close and murmured to me, still shaking, still unable to keep the fear from his voice.

I grabbed his broken tail, holding it to my chest as the panicked thuds of my heart calmed.

For a long time, nothing was said.

Then, in a quiet, meek voice:

“Thank you, Toothless.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank my betas Crysist and GoldenGriffiness for all of your awesome work betaing and going over this with me!
> 
> Also, if you haven’t seen the animatic that I made for IHHS and Echoed Songs, please feel free to check out my profile to the link to it! The video is titled “Screams and Songs”.
> 
> I hope you have a great day!

**Chapter 2**

Astrid

The Deadly Nadder crept closer, eyes narrowed and head lowered. A soft hiss came between bared teeth, poison-barbed tail lashing. With every small step closer the sound of claws scraping across the ground became more and more pronounced.

I froze, shooting a wide-eyed look at our surroundings. We were in the middle of the road, having been walking back to my house from the docks. Villagers were milling about on their daily routines. I couldn’t see anything even remotely threatening, and the dragons lounging around didn’t seem alarmed at all. What was wrong?

It took me a second to see the glint in the dragon’s eyes. Realization dawned on me.

My mistake was to back away, when I should have stayed still and stared her down.

“Stormfly, _no!_ ”

With a scream, Stormfly charged. I stumbled backwards, holding my hands up, but it was pointless. She barreled right into me, knocking me backwards with a heavy impact. Just as I hit the ground, she curled her claws around my chest, pinning me, and snapped at my belt. I pushed her massive head away, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything; she was far stronger than I was, especially when she wanted to be.

Stormfly ripped my axe right out of my belt and fluttered a little ways down the street. Surrounding dragons let out growls. I lied there, completely defenseless.

I groaned, putting a hand to my head. “Not _again_.”

Stormfly chirped at me, tipping her head and take a few steps closer. I rolled over and sat up, and she scurried away.

“Stormfly, give it back,” I said, trying to make my voice commanding. I had to be the “boss dragon” to her if I ever hoped of being able to control or discipline her. I had tried to go to Hiccup about it, but he and Toothless hardly hung around Berk enough for me to really get anything out of him. He’d shrugged in irritation, told me something along the lines of “dragons are people too”, and had said that I should simply try to befriend her with mutual respect and go from there.

Still, this kind of disobedience was aggravating at best and very disruptive at worst, and most Vikings did not have a patient streak—myself included. The worst part was that it was way too hard to enforce _anything_ on a giant flying reptile that could breathe fire at you if it got mad.

Or if it wanted to play the hundredth game of keep-away that week.

Stormfly continued to squawk at me, bouncing her head up and down and wiggling her rump like a cat. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t hide a smile at the sight. It was still baffling to me that a dragon could be _cute_ , of all things, and even playful _._ Hell, Stormfly was fearlessly playing with my _axe_ , the same weapon that I had used against her countless times in the Ring.

The thought, as always, made me slump my shoulders and look down in shame. Not for the first time, I thought back to the past, to every single _stupid_ mistake I had made that had only made things worse for everybody. Especially Hiccup.

My axe dropped in front of me with a clatter, and I nearly leaped out of my skin in shock. Stormfly trilled and gently nudged my hands with her nose.

“Oh, don’t worry, Stormfly,” I said, snapping myself out of my funk and giving her a quick scratch below the chin. “It’s fine. Here, girl, catch!”

The axe skittered across the ground and came to a stop a short distance away. Stormfly flew up and pounced on it like it was a rabbit, hopping back over to me and wiggling in excitement.

Several dragons lounging in the street watched with interest, heads tilted and eyes focused. The people walking around were a lot more wary, jumping every time Stormfly got close.

We continued on our way, the sky bright and the air crisp. It was actually really relaxing to play a game of catch with Stormfly and not have to worry about anything else. Part of me was screaming to stop messing around and to get ready—that something horrible would happen soon, that I was letting my guard down. I tried to ignore it.

At one point some younger dragons—Nadders about half the size of Stormfly—fluttered down and tried to steal my axe from her. She let out a scream and began chasing them around to the point that they all fluttered to _me_ and hid from her, sitting behind my legs and hissing. A few had to learn the hard way that they couldn’t hide underneath someone smaller than them, and that said someone didn’t appreciate dragons sticking their heads in-between her legs.

In all the commotion, doors had been slammed into, barrels knocked over, and people flung out of the way. None of the villagers really knew how to handle it, so they just gave each other that nervous ‘what should we do?’ look that had become more and more common by the day.

But…honestly, I wouldn’t mind the constant interruptions and confusion if it meant living a life like this. I still couldn’t believe it, but dragons were _fun_. And even dragons like Stormfly that couldn’t understand people had proven to be far more empathetic and intelligent than we had ever thought possible.

Stormfly went to hand me back my axe and then jerked away when I tried to grab it. Clucking in that way that I just _knew_ she was taunting me, she held it just above my reach as I jumped for it, her eyes glittering. I raised an eyebrow at her, hands on my hips.

“Do you want me to throw it or not?” I asked. Stormfly feinted giving it to me again, taking easy advantage over how much taller than me she was. “Alright, suit yourself—wait, what’s wrong?”

Stormfly had stiffened, spines raised, tail barbs clicking, and eyes wide. She was staring intently down the street, which dropped down a steep hill out of sight.

She turned to me, shoved my axe in my arms, and nosed me in the direction she’d been looking. Before I could do anything, she’d opened her wings and flown off.

“Woah, where are you going?” I shouted, launching into a sprint. The moment I hit the crest of the hill, I skidded to a halt and had to pinwheel my arms to prevent nearly toppling all the way down.

There was a huge crowd right in front of the smithy. While not necessarily uncommon, it was still pretty weird. Every dragon in the vicinity was alert, staring motionlessly down at something in the crowd with raised wings and twitching tails. Several were already leaning forward in the slow preparations of takeoff, and the sight of bared teeth made my heart drop. The dragons were being aggressive, but why? Hiccup had said that…

A glint of sunlight reflecting off metal caught my eye. Just next to it, two figures were huddled up against the smithy.

It was enough to snap me back to reality. With a hammering heart, I launched into a sprint, my mind whirling with hundreds of possibilities: of blood spilling, of flames rekindled, of massacres. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I had a fairly good idea of what might happen if someone didn’t intervene.

Dragons were snarling. People were shouting and the sharp stinging sound of metal on metal filled the air as swords and daggers were yanked from their holsters. Toothless’ roar echoed off the buildings. I reached the crowd, shoving my way through it.

I had a second to see a burly man advancing on Toothless and Hiccup and thrust his sword at the Night Fury. On reckless impulse, I kept up my momentum and leapt right into the middle of it all.

“ _Wait!_ ” I cried.

I was too late; the man had been mid-swing. Time slowed around me as I saw the sunlight glaring off the metal and I met my reflection’s eyes. Even though it was useless, I tried to flinch away, knowing that I had stupidly placed myself in front of a strike and that I would just have to deal with the consequences.

Stormfly threw herself in front of me, used her wing to glance the blow, and whipped her tail around fast enough to send a _SNAP!_ crackling through the air. The villager took the hit right in his midsection and was sent flying several meters away into the crowd. Chaos erupted as everyone raised their weapons and dragons leapt into the street, gathering by Stormfly’s side in a growling barricade.

I turned around just in time to see Hiccup, face as pale as death and eyes sightless. He was cringing away and gasping frantic, shallow breaths, his small frame wracked with shudders. Gobber was crouched in front of him, jaw set and eyes hard. Before I could begin to ask him what the hell was going on, he snatched Hiccup off the ground and threw him onto Toothless’ back.

“GO!” He commanded.

The Night Fury was gone in seconds, living up to his reputation. Dragons lifted up to follow him, only to suddenly stop and descend once again on some unheard command.

I stood there, panting and shaking from the sudden workout. My brain struggled to catch up.

It took me a second to turn to Stormfly, who was crouched besides me with lifted wings.

“Thanks, girl,” I breathed, looping an arm under her head. She stopped snarling at the crowd and squawked, closing her eyes and pressing close. Despite her bravery, she was tense and shivering. I smiled, filled with pride that it had been _my_ dragon that had leapt forward to protect both Hiccup and myself.

“What in the name of Thor are ya _doin’_?” Gobber exploded from behind, stomping forward and red up to his ears. “Do ya want to start a war again? I ought to give ya an express trip to Helheim fer pullin’ a stunt like that!”

The man—a battle-hardened warrior named Dogsbreath—scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off. “That _thing_ and his dragon were sittin’ around by the forge like it was nothing,” he ground out. “If you don’t remember, those two used to be _well-known_ for destroying weapons supplies and leavings islands defenseless right before they strike again. And here they were, taking a little nap right under your nose, just waitin’ for a chance to get in!”

“Hiccup would never do that!” I said, my grip on Stormfly tightening. My dragon narrowed her eyes and bared gnarly teeth, and the surrounding dragons did the same.

The hairs on the end of my neck stood on end as the air erupted with deep, furious growls. It sounded like the world itself was about to be shredded apart by teeth and talons. I finally took a moment to take in what exactly the dragons around us were doing. Monstrous Nightmares, Deadly Nadders, Zipplebacks, Gronckles, even Terrors were all hyperfocused on Dogsbreath and the uncertain crowd behind him.

“Look, you need to put that away,” I said, pointing at his sword, “unless you want all of these dragons to murder you for trying to kill their leaders.”

Dogsbreath narrowed his amber eyes at me. “ _You_ don’t have any say in this. I’ve not forgotten how you and your friends betrayed our village.”

I stiffened and glowered, clenching my fists, but refused to take the bait. My brief time as the village screwup had taught me a quick and firm lesson: the moment you engage in that kind of argument is the moment you lose.

“That has nothin’ ta do with this!” Gobber said. He closed the gap between himself and Dogsbreath in one long stride and ripped the sword out of the burly warrior’s hand. “All the lot of you, put yer weapons away! Ya won’t see _me_ rebuildin’ all yer houses when they get burnt down!”

The rush of the moment dissipated. Vikings began hesitantly sheathing their weapons as they somehow _just_ realized that they were surrounded by a bunch of seriously-pissed off dragons. This seemed to satisfy the malevolent crowd looming above; the dragons began to turn away and fly off with very few remaining to keep watch. Stormfly loosened out of her battle posture and fluttered her wings, clucking and snapping her jaw.

“You’re a fool, Gobber,” Dogsbreath seethed, all but shaking with rage and hands on the hilts of the numerous weapons he carried on him. “These dragons are only here because _he’s_ here. They would turn on us in a heartbeat if those two gave the command.”

Gobber leaned in and met his eyes. In a low, even voice, he said, “Then don’t give ‘em a reason to.”

He paused to let that sink in and then straightened up. “Now all of you, get outta here! I got work to do, and all of ya are keepin’ me from it! Unless you _want_ me to stop workin’ on our weapons?” He said this with a pointed look at Dogsbreath.

There was a tense moment. With a final, disgusted snort, Dogsbreath yanked his sword out of Gobber’s hand, threw it back in its sheath, and stormed away. The source of conflict gone, the crowd easily dispersed just as the dragons above had.

I took a moment for myself, holding Stormfly closer. She lowered her head and rumbled. She wouldn’t turn on us—on me. Not at the drop of a hat. She wouldn’t.

...but could the same really be said for the other dragons?

**o.O.o**

Toothless

That was it.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take this anymore. I was a Shadow-Blender, one of the most capable dragons in the north. Hiccup and I had together taken down the Queen with the aid of the Dragon of the Sun and Dragoness of the Moon Themselves. If any human or dragon could find a solution, then it was me.

Even if that wasn’t the case, then I was going to try anyways until it became reality.

“Hiccup?” I asked, shaking the reformed dragon in question. He was curled up against my side and hadn’t moved or spoken for quite some time. I lifted my wing to expose him and poked his shaggy fur with my nose. This time when I spoke, I drew the word out and over-exaggerated each syllable, “ _Hiccup?_ ”

“Hm?” He mumbled, eyelids twitching.

Craning my neck, I peered up through the canopy to gauge how late in the day it was. The forest was still bright and crisp around us, birdsong filling in an otherwise empty space. We had been here for some time, and I just knew that _someone_ was going to come looking for us when it was least needed. I scented the air for humans, but only found traces of the last rainfall and the earthy, rich undertones of the foliage and wildlife.

“You know I hate sleeping in,” I laughed uneasily. Hiccup didn’t say anything, and I prodded him again. “Come on, Hiccup, I’ve got an idea.” I paused, and trying to speak clearly again, “ _Please?_ ”

Hiccup cracked his eyelids open. He met my eyes.

I _strained_ for the link to come forward, pushing at my magic so fiercely that my head pounded. Now, more than ever, did I loathe its absence.

It did not come.

Hiccup sat up and leaned against my shoulder while I withheld a sigh. He stretched like a hatchling, throwing his paws out in front of him and arching his back. “What time is it?” He asked, blinking up at the hidden sky. “How long was I…asleep?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t bother to keep track. Two hours or so?”

He gave me a long, frustrated look, and said nothing.

I had to fight not to become upset myself. Not at Hiccup— _never_ at Hiccup! Yet here I was, failing my brother even though we were right besides each other, wanting for all the world to give him the precise help he needed.

Hiccup was beyond exceptional at, as he called it, ‘getting the gist’ of what I said. He could easily distinguish tone and emotion where humans apparently only heard grunts and growls. Additionally, he was much better than the humans at interpreting facial expressions. This did wonders for us, even with the one-sided communication we were forced to endure. Still, charades and yes-and-no questions only got so far.

Instead of speaking, I closed my eyes and nosed him on the forehead. Opening my magic reserves, I tried to observe the nature and structure of what remained of his own magic. It was a spell that I had done before when the both of us were under the Queen’s control. Yet my magic reacted as I expected, pushing against Hiccup and unable to “cross over” to his body. There was just the slightest pull from him, an empty shell where there _should_ have been magic, but it was not enough for me to see if his magic could be restored.

I was forced to draw back the spell, or waste my magic fruitlessly searching. Again.

Such a searching spell had already been attempted multiple times. The idea was to find the magic that had once maintained his Shadow-Blender form and strengthen it, guiding it to its full strength and allowing it to consume his body. His old magic had sustained his dragon form without causing him harm, and therefore did not carry the threat that new magic did, as it was only a matter of breathing life into it again.

Yet the elders had told us weeks ago that with only the barest traces of magic within him, it could not be used to change him back—if it existed at all. New magic from an outside source would be required to power a reversion to his Shadow-Blender body.

Such a feat was simply too dangerous. It had been a miracle that Hiccup had not perished after his initial transformation, and with the trauma his body and mind had sustained after facing the Queen, it was too risky. Transformation-magic needed to be extremely precise, and using brute force to transform him again could easily become a death sentence.

Despite everything, I’d rather spend the rest of my life like this than a life without Hiccup in it.

I lifted my head and rested my chin on the top of his, ears and side-frills wilting. “I’m so sorry, Hiccup,” I murmured, not for the first time.

Hiccup pushed his head up against mine in a friendly manner, giving a little purr. “I’m really glad you’re here, Toothless.”

At least he was cheered up a little bit. I allowed the moment to last, letting the two of us drift back into silence. When it seemed appropriate enough, I pushed my legs underneath me, folded my wings, and stood up.

“Let’s try something,” I said in response to his concerned expression, throwing my head in our universal “let’s go” gesture and trying not to look too serious.

Hiccup looked down at his paws, shoulders hunched. “Yeah, I guess we have to go back, don’t we?” He let out a long breath and began to stand up. I held out a paw for him to hold onto.

“Well, that’s not exactly what I meant, but good point,” I said, sending a quick glance over my shoulder for humans. “Anyways, that’s for later. Now, ah…”

I lifted my ears and did a quick spin to take in our environment. There was really nothing around but normal forest foliage.

 _Maybe the idea was easier to think of than to do_ , I grumbled to myself. _Oh, who cares! I’m trying it anyways!_

I faced a very confused and very sleep-deprived Hiccup, pointed at him the human way with my paw, and instructed, “ _Hiccup!_ ”

He stiffened, looked down at himself, and began to frantically paw at the dead furs he used to keep warm. “What?! Where is it?”

“Where is what?” I asked, tipping my head. I blinked. “Oh! No, there’s nothing _on_ you, besides those disgusting furs. Why do you use them, anyways?”

Hiccup was already twisting around in desperate search of the “thing” that I had “warned” him of. “Oh, gods, where’d it go? What was it? A bug? A microdragon?”

I couldn’t stifle a laugh at that last comment. _Everyone_ knew microdragons didn’t exist. “No! It’s fine!” I shook my head, grabbed him with a paw, and purred at him. “ _It-is-fine,_ ” I emphasized, once again slowing my speech and making each individual sound clear and succinct. For convenience, I tried to layer my voice with an easygoing, comforting tone.

Hiccup finally stopped, holding his paws to his heart. Realization lit up in his eyes. “Wait, did you just say…’ _it’s fine_ ’?”

I froze where I stood. Hey, that wasn’t even that hard!

“YES!” I shouted, jumping up and prancing around him. “Hah! Take that, doubters! I know you’re out there!”

To make things even better, Hiccup actually smiled for the first time in ages! He snickered, easing into a hunting-crouch and batting at me on each go-around. “Jeez, Toothless, what’s gotten into you?”

I stopped in front of him with a dignified snort. “Alright… _Hiccup!_ ” I articulated, pointing at him the human way again.

“Uh, yeah?” He asked, looking at me like I’d gone and grown fur. Then his eyebrows raised and his eyes brightened. “Wait…”

I pointed at myself. “ _Toothless._ ”

“…Toothless?” Hiccup repeated.

I beamed, nodding multiple times. Hiccup bounced in place with excitement. I glanced around, turned to the nearest object, and threw a paw towards it. “ _Stone!_ ”

“Rock?”

“Eh, close enough. _Tree!_ ”

“Pine?”

“That’s for _later_ , Hiccup. We need to take hatchling-steps, just like with flying. Now—”

“Okay, I gotta try again? How about ‘tree’?”

“There you go! Okay, _bird!_ ”

“Branches?”

“No, _b-i-r-d!_ ”

“Wait! What’s this?”

“That would be your… _paw!_ ”

“And these?”

“ _Eyes!_ ”

“Oh! How do you say ‘this’?”

“ _This!_ ”

“Hold on, can you repeat that?”

“Of course! _This._ And _this_ here is…”

**o.O.o**

By the time we’d finished up basic anatomical and environmental terminology, the sky was orange and the forest was cast in indigo shadows and a light fog. Fireflies hovered in groups around us, making it appear as though the Dragoness of the Moon had idly traced a path on the earth with Her paw.

Hiccup insisted on me repeating words in randomized groups. He would lean in with an intense stare as I spoke, sucking in as much information as possible. His capacity to memorize was honestly impressive. Still, I had my own secret doubts that he would not remember everything once they were not fresh in his mind. How could he possibly learn everything on the first try?

But if Hiccup was anything, he was a fast learner—and one that paid excruciatingly careful attention to detail at that. He had always had a natural knack at absorbing information, even as a dragon. All things considered, he’d learned to fly at a very rapid pace. Hell, he’d even learned how to use his magic in _one_ evening while chained up and injured.

I truly believed that we were going to succeed. It made everything that had happened—even today—seem to have much less of a sting.

Hiccup more than agreed with me, babbling enthusiastically as we pushed our way through the undergrowth. “This is so great, Toothless! How could we have not thought of this before? I mean, I’ll be honest, you sound _really_ weird when you translate for me, but this could totally change everything! I wish I could write a cheat sheet—that would mean I’d never have to ask you to clear things up again. And—woah!“

Hiccup’s metal paw snagged on something and he fell. I jolted forward and grabbed his dead furs like a scruff, lifting him off the ground for a second and placing him at my side.

“Time for a new term. _Up_ ,” I said, crouching down and nodding towards myself.

Hiccup frowned. “But…you used a different word for ‘back’ earlier.”

I shook my head, grabbed at his paw with sheathed teeth, and pulled him towards me. “ _No, up!_ ”

“Oh!” Hiccup said. He scrabbled onto my back. “So, ‘get on’?”

“Hm… _yes_ ,” I said with a grin. Same difference.

“Awesome,” Hiccup breathed. He leaned forward so that I could see him and gave a brilliant smile. “Toothless, I have to say…you’re a genius.”

“Finally, you acknowledge it!” I preened, squaring my paws, raising my tail and wings, and puffing my chest up.

Hiccup held on easily even as I straightened my back until it was almost vertical. He laughed and pulled at my ear. “Don’t you let it get to your head. We’ve still got a lot of work to do. Can you quiz me on some words again?”

I sent him a grin over my shoulder as I began to walk back towards his father’s wood-cave, making sure to keep a wide perimeter between us and the rest of the human nest. As energetic as we were now, both Hiccup and myself were exhausted after the day’s events. We needed _somewhere_ to hide out. The last thing we needed was an angry group of humans yelling at us for no reason.

Additionally, our nestmates were probably more than a little concerned. The last they’d seen their Kings, we had been under attack by a human. I would have to speak to them at some point; even though I had explicitly told them not to attack humans for fear of retaliation against Hiccup and myself, a firm reminder was in order. The Two-Walker named Stormfly had come dangerously close to _killing_ that damned human that had attacked us. I honestly couldn’t care less if he died…but Hiccup and the humans of Berk certainly did.

I shook my head. All of that was for later. It seemed that we needed to take hatchling-steps in more areas than one.

“Let’s see… _Up._ ”

“Get on.”

“ _Tailfin._ ”

“Tail. Wait! Tailfin.”

“Good! _Sun_ and _moon?_ ”

“Moon, sun.”

“ _No_ , _sun_ and _moon._ ”

“Uh…wait, what? I’m pretty sure I had those.”

I rolled my eyes. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t.” I stopped and deliberately pointed a paw up at the dimming sky. “ _No sun._ ”

Hiccup shifted around, humming in confusion. “No…moon? Oh—no sun!”

“ _Yes!_ ” I chirped. “Now, _sun_ and _moon._ ”

“Moon, sun,” he teased. I put a bounce in my step with a sly grin, and Hiccup nearly lost his grip before he made sure to bat at my ear. “Alright, alright—I know the difference now. Or at least, I’m pretty sure I do.”

“I almost don’t doubt you,” I purred.

The trees ahead began to thin. The fireflies buzzed away. I stepped out into the open and onto the carved pathway of the humans.

I had trekked around so as to pop out right in front of the wood-cave. It came into view once we left the safety of the forest—as well as someone else. I stopped dead in my tracks, crouched low, and began to backpedal back into the undergrowth.

“Toothless!”

I groaned even as Hiccup stiffened. Now, of all times? Today had been hectic enough as it was—was it too much to ask for some rest?

Even so, this conversation would happen eventually.

 _Ugh, might as well get it done and over with,_ I decided.

As I slunk back out into the open, I once again reminded myself: _we are Kings, too._

The human King ran and met us halfway, stopping just at my side. Fear-scent wafted off of him. I tried to push it from my mind.

“Hiccup—thank Thor,” he said. He paused with reaching paws, caught between grabbing Hiccup off of me and letting him stay where he was. “Gobber told me about what happened this morning.”

Hiccup didn’t meet his father’s eyes, staring down at his paws and leaning just away. “Uh, yeah…about that. I can explain—“

“No,” he said, holding up a paw.

I whipped around to glare at the King, teeth bared.

He looked exhausted and worn out, like he’d had just as bad a morning as we had. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hiccup,” he murmured in that infuriating “gentle voice” he used on Hiccup, like he was comforting a fallen dragon suffering from a lethal wound.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Obviously.”

He spared me a glance before continuing, “Dogsbreath was punished. Don’t worry about him—he won’t go near you again.”

For a second I was completely confused. Then, realizing that “Dog’s-Breath” was a name, I reared my head back and twisted around to share a look with an equally-surprised Hiccup.

I suppose that…made the King a _little_ better. It was good to see he ruled with at least _some_ sense of justness, even though it was horribly delayed.

“You… _punished_ him?” Hiccup asked in disbelief. “Should I just leave it there or…?”

“Hard labor duties all day for the next three months—without pay,” his father said with an official, exact voice, as if reporting findings to the Queen.

Apparently this was very unfortunate, because Hiccup gaped like he’d been given the same verdict. “I, uh, I really appreciate you standing up for me, Dad. But…” He shifted nervously in place and met the King’s stare. “I just, I don’t want to cause any trouble. There’s already enough as it is, and all we did was sit outside.”

The King’s expression hardened. “I’ve already made my decision. He would have been given the same treatment if it had been Snotlout or Astrid that he drew that sword on.” He reached a paw out to Hiccup, paused for an awkward moment, and then withdrew it. “Hiccup…” he shifted uncomfortably. “Has this happened before?”

Well, yes. Many humans disliked us and had no reason to hide their distrust. Several had offered subtle and not-so-subtle threats, with or without weapons. But it had never been like this morning.

Hiccup had never just _crumbled_ like that, disappearing into his own mind, plummeting into a panic attack that left him too exhausted to even stay conscious.

That, or…

I tried not to make it obvious how carefully I looked over him, searching for the slightest twitch that would indicate what he was thinking. As much as I tried to discourage it, Hiccup had _always_ been good at burying his own problems for the “greater good”, or to not “be a burden”. Even…even from me.

Right on cue, Hiccup shrugged and turned his head away from the both of us. “It’s not that big a deal—both of us are fine now.”

The King turned searching eyes towards mine, pleading for my help. I held his gaze and wracked through my head for what to do.

_“And I know I’m in no place to ask you of this, but…if there is any way to help…to show me how to help him…would you?”_

_“Thank you…Toothless.”_

That private conversation had led to many of these “help me” looks from the King. I hated how he treated Hiccup as fragile as an egg, how he was always so forward and awkward and focused on pushing the past behind us. Yet all of that made everything worse, and Hiccup was usually the one to pay the penalty.

That agreement…almost felt like I had lied to Hiccup. I had not spoken of it to him, mortified of even the thought of telling him that I’d managed to find a way to talk about him behind his back. Even if it was to help him, I still felt a sense of _wrong._

But the King clearly was too incompetent to figure out how to fix things on his own.

I shook my head at him. _Leave us alone._

“Anyways, it’s starting to get late,” Hiccup said. “I guess I should go to bed—unless I don’t have to go to work tomorrow?” This last bit was said hopefully.

“You’re still going,” the King sighed. He motioned, and we began to walk towards the wood-cave. “But you are right. Go get some rest—we’ll be heading down at first light tomorrow.”

Both Hiccup and I groaned. As much as the both of us hated it, refusing to go as we had been for the past few days would only cause more tension between us and the King. Even _I_ knew that we would have to get over it eventually unless we wanted to live in constant conflict, which was the last thing we needed.

“Well, I guess we can look at the bright side,” Hiccup grumbled. “I seriously doubt there can be a worse first day than today.”

The King hesitated, sending a conflicted look at his son. Then, matter-of-factly, “That’s right.”

Dragon of the Sun, I hoped that was true.

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

Step One: Try to actually go to sleep for once, or face another day full of lethargy.

Step Two: Try to eat food that makes you nauseous, or face the constant aches of an underfed stomach.

Step Three: Try not to slip away in the morning, or face Dad’s worried anger.

Step Four: Try not to take up Toothless’ tempting offers to run away anyways. See above.

Step Five: Try not to have another episode while surrounded by dozens of weapons that were used by your village-mates as they tried to kill you. See above.

…seems simple enough.

We arrived at the smithy when the sun had barely risen, the village still dark and cold. I could barely keep my eyes open. My eyes ached and my ears felt clogged.

Dad said something to me, but I didn’t quite catch it. I blinked and he was gone, having walked inside. It took me several seconds of tired mental gymnastics to realize that he was probably talking to Gobber about yesterday.

I pressed up against Toothless and closed my eyes. He draped a wing around me, shielding me from the frigid air. It was like pulling a warm blanket over oneself after a long day. I purred, and a thought crossed my mind: can dragons fall asleep standing up?

“ _Hiccup_ ,” Toothless whispered, poking me with his nose.

Instantly I was drawn out of my daze. I quieted and pushed away, pawing at my eyes. “Hm? Oh—wow, hey there!”

I grinned down at the one-winged Little-Biter just at our feet. He averted his eyes and set down an impressively-sized cod in front of us. A heartbeat later, he dropped into the deepest of bows and murmured something that I was sure meant, “ _My Kings_ ”.

Toothless and I ducked our heads in return. Toothless said something that I couldn’t catch while I tried to purr in a grateful manner.

As the Little-Biter straightened out, I dropped down to four paws and prodded the fish with my hand. “This is a nice catch!” I said. “Great job!”

The Little-Biter tipped his head to the side, his eyes huge and searching.

Toothless translated for me. The Little-Biter stared up at him intently, jolted in place with wide eyes, and rushed into another bow. He stammered something and it didn’t take a genius to know that he was being modest.

“It’s fine,” I laughed. I turned to Toothless. “How do you say ‘thank you’?”

Toothless perked up from his somewhat-bored posture. He began to translate.

Firstly, he raised his voice so that the quieter undertones were easier to hear. I had learned quickly that dragons were capable of producing more than one sound at once. Usually, the “secondary” sounds, or undertones, were used to modify the “words” in some way, such as indicating how the dragon was feeling. A dragon could say a greeting with an “excited” undertone or an “annoyed” undertone depending on the context. I could hear them every now and then with other dragons, but with Toothless it usually only took a little concentration to distinguish them.

With his new way of speaking, Toothless somehow figured out how to make the undertone just as loud as the word. This made each word sound crisp and succinct, rather than muddled up by subtler notes underneath.

Secondly, he pronounced each word just a few milliseconds longer than normal. It wasn’t like he was slowing down his speech, but instead dragging the individual sounds out so that I could hear how they were different from the ones before and after.

With these two combined, Toothless ended up speaking with _regularity_. While usually his words and undertones rolled together into one long, indistinguishable sound, I could now pinpoint subtle differences.

He had essentially standardized his form of dragon speech. For such a condensed language, this was huge.

“ _Thank you_ ” turned out to be a purring sound that rose up and down in pitch twice. The beginning of the phrase had more vibrato than the rest, making it sound as though he was rushing the first part. It was a complicated sound, but not nearly as bad as “sun” and “moon” were.

I nodded, humming. It seemed pretty doable. “Alright, now let me—“

The Little-Biter was looking at Toothless like he’d launched into a song about his feelings. His head was reared back, head tipped completely to the side, and eyes wider than I’d ever seen.

I burst out laughing. Toothless chuckled alongside me, although I could tell his pride was hurt _just_ a little bit.

“Yeah, that’s kinda how I felt when I first heard him do that,” I told the Little-Biter. He turned his perplexed look on me. With a snicker, I leaned down and butted foreheads with him. He got the message easily enough this time; with a happy chirp, he nudged the fish towards me.

I picked up the cod and sniffed it. It was still wet and smelled of sea salt, bringing with it a torrent of memories of all the many other times I’d encountered this scent. The Little-Biter must’ve just gone fishing and then walked all the way back up to Berk with his best catch, and all for us.

I felt a little guilty taking it from him. However, it was customary to share food with your King or Queen. To reject it would show that all that hard work had gone to waste and that I didn’t think his efforts were worthwhile.

I showed it to Toothless first, reluctant to be the first one to take the offering. He sniffed it himself before taking a delicate bite out of it, leaving half of it behind for me.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he said to the Little-Biter. The one-winged dragon paused, confused, and took a second to figure it out. Then he gave a huge smile.

I grinned and brought the fish up to my mouth—

“ _Hiccup!_ What are you—put that down!”

I jumped, dropping the half-eaten cod. The Little-Biter spun, arched his back, and scampered off in a little green blur. Toothless groaned.

Dad marched out of the smithy and grabbed me by my arm, hauling me to my feet. I jerked away from him.

He didn’t notice, too busy looking down at the cod and scrunching his face up with disgust. “Were you about to… _eat_ that?” He asked, giving me another one of his “fatherly concern” looks.

I made myself meet his eye. I couldn’t avoid this topic forever, not with how often it happened. “Yes. Remember what I told you about awhile ago, after the Flame—after the Nightmare incident?”

For a second he gaped at me in disbelief. “It’s _raw_ , Hiccup,” Dad pointed out the obvious. “And you ate this morning.”

Yup, I’d noticed. My stomach was already roiling and cramping from the porridge and salted game we’d had for breakfast. Even Toothless had turned his nose up to it. Honestly, the fish was the most appetizing thing I’d seen all day.

“Yeah, but…”

“It’s going to make you sick,” Dad pressed. I tried not to scoff. “And it’s…half-eaten.”

Toothless stooped down and grabbed the fish. He stared my father right in the eyes and handed it to me, narrowing his eyes and raising a lip to show teeth.

Welp, now it was worse. I wasn’t about to eat it _right_ in front of Dad—not when he’d made it loud and clear how repulsive he thought it was. My shoulders slumped, and I spared just a second to give it a final, longing look.

“I’m…actually not hungry. You can have it,” I said, resigned, and held it out to Toothless. When he shook his head, I pushed it towards him, trying to beg with my eyes for him to just take it.

Toothless lowered his ears and frills, crooning out an apology. He grabbed the rest of what _was_ my breakfast, swallowing it in one gulp. As he did so, he made extra-sure to give my father a nasty look.

In the dim sunrise, it was hard to see anything. Usually it would have made Dad hard to read, true to his namesake. Instead he looked wracked with guilt; his brows heavy over his eyes, jaw clenched, lips pressed together.

I turned away. I guess I’d done a shoddy job at hiding my disappointment. Which meant that I’d just sent Dad yet another firm reminder that things were _not_ the same anymore, even if we pretended that they were. I could almost feel the gap between us crack open more.

“Um, anyways,” I said, “I got a lot of catching-up to do at work.”

In a second Dad’s momentary weakness was gone. “I...see. I’ll bring you more food for lunch,” he said. “No need to take some from a dragon, alright?” He said the last bit almost as a joke, trying to smile.

“It’s pretty tasty—you should try it,” I said. I was actually serious, although I wasn’t sure if Dad caught on.

Dad grimaced and shuddered. “I’ll pass on that.” He stepped to the side and motioned me forward. “Alright, off to work. I’ve got to organize some trade, but I’ll be sure to stay in the area.”

The same mixed feelings from yesterday came upon me. It was almost comforting to hear that Dad was making sure to stay nearby in light of yesterday’s…incident. Yet at the same time, all I wanted to do was jump on Toothless’ back and take off, away from everyone and everything.

I met my father’s eyes again. He was struggling to look “normal”, so much that even I noticed. His face was cast in stone, but his eyes were swimming with guilt and confusion and, as much as I hated it, fear. I wondered how I looked to him—did I look just as conflicted as I felt?

I already knew the answer, of course.

I nodded, realizing that I hadn’t said anything. As an afterthought, “Thanks, Dad.”

We stood there for a moment, basking in the disconnect. Toothless immediately grew tired of it and nudged me.

“I’ll, uh, see you later,” I said.

“Alright. Work hard.” I turned away, only to squeak when Dad shot a hand out and grabbed me. He looked deep into me and begged, “And _please_ , Hiccup, if anything goes wrong, come and tell me.” He squeezed my arms. “I promise you, I’ll help you.”

I swallowed and nodded, and Dad finally released me. I turned and scurried into the forge with Toothless hot on my heels. Gobber made a sarcastic comment to me about being late, but I was too caught up looking back outside to listen.

Dad stood alone in the darkened street, his head hanging and face cast in shadow. For several moments he looked broken, defeated. Then he seemed to shake it off, and with a final glance towards the smithy, he turned his back and walked away.

He thought that I hated him.

It was so obvious, and it stung in a deep way that made it hard to breathe or think. It wasn’t news to me at all. I would often lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling or stars and mulling it over. I _didn’t_ hate him; he was my _father_. I _had_ to love him. I _wanted_ to, and I knew that he felt the same about me.

It was just…really hard to. It was clear that Dad was doing his best to fix things, but the Viking Way of resolving conflict wouldn’t work; it was what started this whole mess in the first place. So he just tried with every bit of strength in him to bring everything back to the norm, no matter how impossible it really was. No matter how much worse it made the both of us feel.

I watched him go, the distance between us ever-increasing. Eventually Toothless made his way over to me, wrapping a wing around me and guarding me from the sight.

**o.O.o**

The sun rose, and with the light it brought came work.

Everything that had happened yesterday weighed like a mountain on my mind. I felt distant, like I wasn’t actually there, like any moment now something would happen. More than once, I was shaken out of a daze by either Gobber or Toothless.

Gobber himself was acting funny, being overly-nice to me. I had a feeling it had something to do with Dad talking to him earlier this morning. Still, he was the same mentor I’d always had, with no tolerance for slacking off.

“Here, smooth this one out for me—it’s got a nasty nick in it,” Gobber said to me about an hour after our arrival. He thrust a sword right into my arms.

Chills raced down my spine. My stomach twisted. I wrenched away from the weapon, clutching at my abdomen and sucking in faint breaths to fight off the nausea. Toothless was at my side in an instant, a deep growl rising in his throat.

Gobber watched the entire thing play out with a knowing look in his eyes. Without saying a word, he took the sword off the ground. “Well, actually,” he drawled, “I think I need yer help with some molds instead. This hunk ‘a junk isn’t worth the effort.”

He didn’t ask me to work on weapons again.

I tried to fill the void by helping Gobber like I had been yesterday, handing him tools and helping out where I could. Whenever there was truly nothing else I could do, I retreated to my old workroom and distracted myself by scribbling with a charcoal pencil and paper, pausing periodically to stretch my hands when they cramped up. Writing runes was still impossible—so taking notes on Toothless’ and my new dragon language was out the window.

Instead I drew. I couldn’t hold the pencil normally, forced to clasp it in a fist. The feeling of loss, of wanting something I used to have, opened a pit in my stomach. I trudged on anyways in an effort to forget it.

Spheres and rectangles were first, since they were nice, simple shapes. Then trees and mountains, which could look somewhat recognizable even with my shaking hand. Toothless hovered behind me the entire time, eyes huge and inquisitive. At one point, I offered the charcoal pencil to him, and he gleefully smashed it right into the paper, snapping it in half and flattening the point.

Needless to say, Toothless wasn’t allowed to draw using pencils anymore.

While my drawing time was short, I found myself relaxing more and more as I moved the pencil across the paper and heard the familiar scritching sound that had once filled many sleepless nights. I certainly wasn’t making masterpieces, and they weren’t even close to being up to par with what I _used_ to be able to do. Despite this, it was almost therapeutic, taking my mind off of all of the problems the outside world threw at me and giving me just a few minutes of reprieve.

My hands ached, and sharp stings of pain shot through them. There was still a sense of wrong, of unnaturalness, of oddity to it all. But my life was full of that now, and this was at least a good thing. It was hard to push it aside, to draw my mind into focus, but I kept doing it anyways.

Lunchtime rolled around, and instead of eating, I sat in the back and doodled away. Gobber was all kinds of unhappy with this, complaining about how Dad would get annoyed at him for not giving me a break, but I brushed him off. It’s not like he would know.

For some time, it was blissfully quiet. I’d managed to make a somewhat-decent scribble that _kind of_ looked like a Shadow-Blender if you looked at it from the right angle and used your imagination. I picked it up and felt the inner artist inside me die a little bit at the blatant errors caused by my unsteady hand. Still, I turned to Toothless with a big smile.

“Look!” I said, brandishing the picture. “It’s us! W-well, you, anyways.”

Toothless drew closer with a raised eyebrow. “ _Toothless, Hiccup?_ ” He asked.

“What, isn’t it obvious?” I said. “Can’t you see it’s highly stylized?” I waved at the image dramatically, like I was showing off some expensive, intricately-decorated ship.

“ _This?_ ” Toothless chuckled. He made a huge show of leaning back and forth and looking at the paper like there was food hidden in it. “ _This, yes?_ ”

“Oh, come on, at least I didn’t squish the pencil to pieces like a certain _somebody_.”

He gave a dignified little snort as if the pencil had been asking for it. Then he perked up and pointed at the paper like a human would. His voice raised, and he made a distinct thrumming sound that trailed off at the end along with a click.

I tipped my head aside. “Um, paper?”

“ _No..._ ”

“Drawing, then,” I said, grinning when Toothless nodded several times.

“ _Toothless drawing!_ ” He chirped, now pointing at himself. I scrunched my face up in confusion, and he repeated, “ _Toothless…drawing._ ” He then stomped a foot on the ground.

“Okay, you lost me there,” I said. “Are you saying it’s a drawing of you?”

“ _No_ ,” Toothless said. He hummed, thinking.

I leaned in, focusing all of my concentration on him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Wah!” I yelped, leaping to my feet and spinning around. My prosthetic caught on something and I stumbled to the ground. At the same time, Toothless jumped so high he hit his head on the roof. He ducked and pawed at it with an aggravated hiss. The end result was both of us sitting on the floor, moaning over little things.

To her credit, Astrid didn’t laugh. She actually looked flustered, rushing forward to help. “O-oh, I’m sorry, lemme help you—!”

I flinched away from her hand, curling up and pressing my head against the ground. Astrid’s eyes widened and she took a step backwards.

Toothless stood upright and helped me up. He gave Astrid one hell of a side-eye, rumbling in a suspicious tone. Honestly, I felt kind of the same.

I hadn’t spoken to Astrid in some time. She had approached me shortly after I’d…recovered…and had apologized profusely for everything she’d done. It had been the first and only time I had ever seen Astrid Hofferson close to tears.

Like most people on Berk, I still hadn’t a clue how to act around her. There was always that lurking anxiety that the moment I turned my back, I would be struck.

I knew Astrid would never do that. I knew she was sincere. I knew she felt terrible about how she had treated me in the past.

I knew that she had once tried to kill me, too.

Astrid cleared her throat. I started, realizing that I’d spaced out again and that she’d been waiting for me to say something.

“Um, what are you doing here, Astrid?” I finally asked. I tried to look out into the forge for Gobber, but he was still on lunch break and nowhere to be found.

“I was actually looking for you,” Astrid said, brightening. “I saw Gobber leave for lunch and thought I’d sneak in.” She shifted uncomfortably and then steeled herself, straightening with determination. “I came here to talk about yesterday.”

I looked at Toothless, who shifted closer and wrapped his tail around me. He glared at her for a second before…giving up?

“ _Thank you_ ,” Toothless sighed. He ducked his head for just a second, even if it was done with _quite_ a bit of reluctance.

My jaw hit the floor. Toothless, _thanking_ Astrid? For what?

“What is it?” Astrid asked, looking between the two of us with increasing alarm. She cringed guiltily. “I-I’m sorry, Hiccup, I should’ve known that it’s a sensitive topic. Gods, I’m an idiot.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” I said, pawing at the air and then flinching at the stinging pain associated with the movement. “Toothless is actually…glad?” I gave him a confused look. He rolled his eyes and huffed.

“He’s probably just glad about Stormfly. She did all the work,” Astrid said, relieved. She looked up and met my eyes evenly. “That’s also why I’m here, though.”

She took an eager step forward. I frowned, moving backwards and closer to Toothless. Every inch of me was prickling with nervous energy. My little drawing area, which had been warm and inviting minutes ago, was now trapping me here. I was suddenly aware of how small the room was, how dark it was, the choking scent of smoke, the way I could barely make out any fine details like I’d been blinded. I wanted _out_ , but Astrid was blocking the way and I wasn’t big enough to rush past her anymore.

“And…what would that be…?” I asked, eyes darting back and forth.

“Well, I noticed that Stormfly was really protective of me yesterday—she taught Dogsbreath a lesson for sure.” A proud grin slid across her face before she grew serious again. “A lot of people are scared that the dragons here are only nice because you two are here, Hiccup. But Stormfly didn’t have to save me like that, even if you were in the line of fire.”

I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. That didn’t stop a sinking feeling from settling in my gut, sending adrenaline shooting through my body. That incident had happened right outside, and here we were, _trapped…_

Toothless wrapped a wing around me and threw his head with a grunt. _Get to the point_ , he was saying.

Astrid took notice and bit her lip, her confidence waning. “I was wondering if we could somehow… _show_ people that dragons are tame now. That way people would be less scared, and things like what happened yesterday wouldn’t happen.” She held up a hand and her voice hardened. “Don’t get me wrong—Dogsbreath is a total jerk and deserves every day of punishment he got, but when you think about it, he did all that because he doesn’t feel safe around the dragons. I think that we should—”

 _Dogsbreath_ didn’t feel safe? _That_ was the point?

My snarl echoed off the walls. Astrid froze where she stood and held a hand to her mouth, face pale and eyes huge. Even Toothless, usually well-prepared for anything, let out a surprised yelp.

I realized far, far too late what I’d done. Time almost stopped around me as I took it all in, suddenly aware of my painfully-hammering heart, the ringing in my ears, the gasping way I was breathing as if I’d been running for a long time. The quiet that I had enjoyed earlier was now deafening, suffocating.

Astrid and I stared into each other’s eyes, neither of us having the slightest clue what to do.

“I…I’m sorry, Hiccup,” she whispered, almost like she was afraid of breaking the silence.

My face burned. I turned away from her as Toothless held me close, wanting nothing more than to hide somewhere dark and alone and never come out again. Shame blasted through me as I cursed my own recklessness and stupidity. It was exactly _this_ kind of thing that would land Toothless and me in huge trouble. It was dumb luck that it had been Astrid at the end of it and not someone like Dogsbreath.

“Dragons aren’t tame, Astrid.” I swallowed, making sure to keep her in my peripheral vision. “They’re not pets. W—they’re just as scared as the villagers, too.”

Astrid regained her confidence so fast I was a little jealous. She nodded and stated, “Then we need to work on fixing that. _Both_ ways.”

She was right, but this was the _last_ thing I wanted to talk about. “I’ll think of something later,” I muttered.

“A…alright.” Astrid shifted in place. I felt her gaze driving into me, waiting. She shuffled and then bent over. I almost thought she was bowing until she straightened up and held something out to me. “Here—you dropped this.”

I twisted back towards her, taking in the confused yet pitied look she was giving me. It just made everything worse. To avoid it, I grabbed the poorly-drawn picture of the Shadow-Blender from her with a short, “Thanks.”

The picture was bent and dirty. I traced my hand over the lines, if they could even be called that. It really _was_ nearly impossible to see that it was a Shadow-Blender. The drawing was just too clumsy, even for a normal Viking. It was something in-between; barely a dragon, barely the work of a human.

I crumpled up the paper and threw it aside. Toothless whined in concern.

“Hiccup…?”

“It was a bad drawing anyways.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

**Chapter 3**

Toothless

The second Astrid was gone, so were we.

Hiccup didn’t hesitate, climbing onto my back and trusting that I knew what to do. I padded carefully out of the claustrophobic smoke-cave, sending one last look over my shoulder at Hiccup’s destroyed drawing. There was an entrance in the back, but it was closed and Hiccup had complained at me more than once for “breaking” things by forcing them open. I’d always thought they’d looked better and more open afterwards, but humans had odd choices in aesthetics.

I shoved my way out the front and into the glorious sunlight—and stepped right into the King, almost knocking him over.

“Oh, Dragon of the Sun!” I whined.

The King brushed himself off, maintaining his balance despite having a rushed Shadow-Blender almost bowl him over. “Ah, hello, Toothless,” he greeted me offhandedly. His eyes focused on Hiccup, who shrunk closer onto my back. “Hiccup, I’ve brought you two a meal as promised. You’re on your lunch break, right?”

He offered up some sort of wrapping made of fake furs. It smelled strongly of fish and smoke, but not anything else—not even that disgusting, briny substance that had been on Hiccup’s meat this morning.

I couldn’t believe what I was smelling. By the gods, did the King just give us _edible_ food?

“Oh!” Hiccup said. “Um, thanks.”

His father handed him the wrapping. I gave a formal nod and stepped around him—only for him to intercept.

“Hiccup, where are you going?” The King said. He almost said it as a statement; he already knew the answer.

“Lunch…break?” Hiccup tried.

The King responded with a stern, authoritative look. I returned it. He wasn’t looking at me, though, and its effect was lost on the dumb human.

“Hiccup, we made a deal,” the King scolded, folding his paws at his chest. “You can’t keep doing this, disappearing at a moment’s notice and leaving no sign of when you’ll be back.”

“ _Yes_ ,” I hissed, “we can.”

The King met my eyes, defiant. Hiccup fiddled with the parcel he’d been given.

Nearby, our nestmates were poking their heads over tree-caves and around corners. They began to murmur to each other about interrupting. I sent a short growl at them, throwing my head; the last thing we needed was _another_ altercation _here_. They caught the hint easily, withdrawing with watchful eyes and ready to protect their Kings—their Saviors.

The weight disappeared off my back. Hiccup wobbled on his feet for a second before finding his footing.

“ _Hiccup?_ ” I gasped, turning to him with wide eyes.

He gave me a forced, reassuring grin, and faced the King. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just…hard.”

The King studied Hiccup, looking over him with the slightest hints of worry. “What happened?” He asked, alarm creeping into his voice. “I swear, if someone’s attacked you—!”

I began to catch the faintest whiff of fear-scent. I lowered my eyes, wanting to curse _somebody_ even though it wasn’t that simple. Dragon of the Sun, why did this have to be so _hard?_

“No, no!” Hiccup rushed, pawing at the air just like he used to as a dragon and nearly dropping the package in the process. “It’s just…being in the forge is really…” He waved his paw, looking for the proper word.

“Suffocating?” I supplied. “Aggravating? Claustrophobic?”

Hiccup focused on the package held loosely in his paws. He ducked his head, shoulders drooping. Almost too quiet to hear, he said, “It’s just not _me_ anymore, Dad.”

The King himself seemed taken aback by Hiccup’s honesty. “It’s only been half a day, Hiccup,” he comforted, placing a paw on Hiccup’s shoulder. “How can you be so sure?”

Hiccup tensed at his touch before shaking his head with a shrug. The King dropped his paw, and I pressed against Hiccup’s side with a purr. He managed a small grin.

With watchful, searching eyes, the King studied us in a way that made him seem lost, like he was scanning our faces to see if he knew us. I stared pointedly at the sword that he himself wore at his midsection.

“Why don’t you come with me?” He blurted.

I tensed, opening my wings and lifting my ears. Hiccup had the same reaction, straightening his back with raised eyebrows.

“I-I mean, come walk with me while I check on the trade supplies at the docks,” the King stammered. “A breath of fresh air might do you some good.”

Hiccup and I exchanged a glance. Admittedly, it was awfully cramped and dark in that smoke-cave—and that was ignoring all of the menacing weapons held within. Not to mention that we had already been planning on leaving.

Even so, the King was downright _awkward_ at his greatest, and quite threatening at his worst.

The King took our silence as rejection and lowered his head and eyes. “I…understand. In that case—“

“No,” Hiccup said. His scales turned a pinkish color, and he held his elbow with a paw. “I mean, sure. We’ll go with you.”

It was almost painful to watch how much the King brightened at this. Life seemed to swoop back into him, hope filling his eyes and a real smile settling on his lips. “Then let’s be off then!” He exclaimed, giving Hiccup good-natured slap on the back. Hiccup stumbled forward, and the King grabbed hold of him before even I could. “Ah, sorry. Got ahead of myself.”

Hiccup gave a small, somewhat nervous laugh. I narrowed my eyes, keeping a careful watch on the King’s movements.

I truly wanted things to be better between the three of us—just as much as Hiccup and the King did. Yet I had some serious reservations about this game of dancing around the problem, and the fact that I couldn’t even complain to _Hiccup_ about it was starting to wear me away. If the King seriously wanted to help, then he shouldn’t be dragging us around at his bidding, even if Hiccup let him for the sake of keeping the unsteady peace.

Yet with no other options than to flee, which would only result in more trouble, we were forced to follow along and continue our infuriating “everything is fine” act. All I could do was keep my teeth and claws readied and hope that this would be better than the smoke-cave.

**o.O.o**

It was _not_ better. At all.

The docks were painfully loud, full of squawking gulls and shouting humans. The ocean readily leaped up and soaked us with frigid water. The sun was warm overhead, but it didn’t stay the chill.

Worst of all, it was covered with floating-trees, the same ones where Hiccup had been trapped—where Hiccup and I had, however briefly, _died_. The very sight of them made me shudder and put me on high alert, muscles tense and wings raised. It took all I had not to creep around with my back arched and tail whipping about.

Hiccup took notice of my discomfort and placed a paw on my neck. I relaxed at his touch, thankful for him being there.

He took in all the chaos with bewilderment. “So, I see we’ve got some fishing ships back…”

I noticed as well—the smell of fresh-caught fish was rather strong. Several dragons were brashly _sitting_ on the floating-trees, much to the annoyance of the humans aboard. I sniffed with disdain at the sight of a middle-aged, orange Hum-Wing being chased away from one of the contraptions used to hold fish. The human wasn’t wielding a weapon—they actually had some kind of metallic “basket” with them—but it was the thought that counted.

“That’s first,” the King said. “Come on, let’s see how the catch was this time. There’s been some problems finding shoals up in the north, which is where this fleet was sent.”

We stepped around creaky wooden supports and busy humans on our way towards one of the floating- trees with fish. Dragons were skittering around in search of dropped food, and all that saw us immediately dropped into respectful bows. The Hum-Wing that had been chased around by a Viking stopped in front of us, placing her nose to the wood and spreading her wings out to their fullest extent. Hiccup and I gave short bows in return even as the King stepped in front of Hiccup.

“My Kings, my Saviors!” The Hum-Wing greeted. She remained half-crouched and grinned. “It’s unusual to see you here. Why, may I ask?”

“Family bonding,” I deadpanned. “Do you normally visit here?”

The Hum-Wing nodded exuberantly, eyes flashing up to meet mine and Hiccup’s. “I’ve found that some humans will give food offerings if you ask them enough.” She rolled her eyes. “They are so strange! They don’t understand the simplest things. It takes all of my effort just to get one fish. Oh! But you two are in luck today!”

I snorted when the Hum-Wing bounced in place like a hatchling. Out of the corner of my eye, the King stepped closer to Hiccup, using his own body as a shield.

“And why is that?” I asked, glancing around. There didn’t seem to be anything ‘lucky’ here—just noise and confusion and humans. It was only the occasional comforting sight of a relaxed dragon that allowed me to relax just enough, to not tell Hiccup to jump on my back.

“There are often fledglings that form flares around here,” the Hum-Wing explained. I balked, horror filling me, and she threw her head in a casual way. “Oh, no, no—don’t worry about them, my King. Several adults and myself keep careful watch over them, I tell you. Those little runts don’t set a scale near a human without our supervision.”

Fledglings were a step above hatchlings, distinguished only by their ability to fly. They were notorious for being rebellious and for using their newfound freedom to get into trouble. Adults nearby regardless, I did _not_ like the sound of that. At all.

Especially since there were no fledglings in sight.

“Where are they?!” I demanded, whipping my head about and opening my wings. I tensed the muscles in my neck, readying myself to filter gas.

“Toothless, what’s wrong?” Hiccup asked in alarm, stepping around his father and placing his paws on my shoulder.

It was enough to draw me out of my momentary fear. I took a deep breath and forced myself to appear calm. The fledglings were safe—this much was obvious. No matter how frightening it was that they spent their time here, that was what mattered.

“ _It is fine_ ,” I told him. He tipped his head to the side. A second passed, and he nodded with a little smile.

The Hum-Wing took this all in with a keen eye. “ _Toothless_?” She asked. “And my, what an odd dialect. I can hardly understand it. Is that spoken in the south?” At my surprised look, she bowed again. “My King, with all respect, I am not _that_ young that I only understand the nest’s language.”

I dipped my head a little. “My apologies. I must admit, it’s easy to forget which dragons are the more scholarly.”

The Hum-Wing preened at the compliment and rose, but kept her head and eyes low in respect. “My deepest gratitude, my King. To answer your previous question, the fledglings’ flare has started a competition to see who can fly the farthest. I suspect many of them are on the opposite end of the island. In the meantime, there is a much higher chance of getting second or even third food offerings from the humans without the young around to snatch all of them up.”

As long as the fledglings weren’t _here_ , I was happy. “Thank you very much for your report. I’m very grateful to know all of this.”

 _And to put an end to it_ , I thought to myself.

The Hum-Wing bowed one final time. “That is what I hope. Take care, my Kings!”

“And you as well,” I dismissed. The Hum-Wing opened her wings and buzzed off overhead. I watched her go, a pang of longing striking through me, and then turned to Hiccup.

In hindsight, Hiccup and I _should_ have known about all of this. As Kings, we were responsible for our nestmates’ health and safety. The thought that all of this had slipped by unnoticed made me ill at ease, wondering what else I might have missed.

Hiccup leaned into me, offering a comforting smile when I met his eyes. I shook off the fear. No use in chasing shadows, after all.

“Is everything good?” He asked, eyes swimming with concern.

I nodded absentmindedly. How in the gods’ name was I going to explain this to him?

A human paw clamped on Hiccup’s shoulder. He yelped and spun towards his father.

The King yanked his paw back as if afraid that he’d injured Hiccup. “Ah, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Do you…know what it wanted?”

Hiccup huffed. “No, I didn’t understand what _she_ said.”

A second passed where the King raised an eyebrow, confused. “…I see. Well, if it’s not important, let’s be off then.”

We approached one of the floating-trees without further interruption. A tall, skinny human with tan fur leapt off of it and ran over to the King. What commenced was probably the most oddly-ritualistic, the most strange, the most _boring_ task I had been forced to suffer through since my time living in the humans’ nest.

Talking, talking, talking. That’s all these humans ever did—but now with the added bonus of food! Yet somehow they turned what _could_ have breathed some interest into the subject into its own downfall, adding another layer of drabness to it all.

There was quite a lot of talk about fishing. Sounds interesting? Not at all—all that was discussed was where to put the food, because humans thought that was it was important to put fish in different places depending on the season. At one point, the other human, whom I gathered to be the leader of the floating-trees, produced a drawing and began poking at random places on it. He yammered about where they found much less fish in one area over the other. It made no sense; did they not know that fish could move around in the ocean? Why would they get the exact same amount each time?

Everything that had been said could have been summarized in a few words by a dragon: the hunt was successful, but we found significantly less fish in the north and need to expand our hunting territory. There. Done.

After several minutes of the King listening to the leading human drone on and on, I rolled my head to look over at Hiccup and gave him the flattest look I could manage.

He struggled not to laugh, covering his mouth with a paw and pretending to cough. “Oh, come on, Toothless,” Hiccup whispered to me, keeping his eyes on the other human to act like he was paying attention. “At least we’re not in the smithy.”

“I can feel my scales turning gray!” I returned.

“Would you rather—wait, what was that?” He raised his voice, drawing the attention of the King and the leading human, both of whom had been ignoring us for the most part.

“At our furthest point, we spotted a large flock of dragons far off in the distance,” the human said. He quirked an eyebrow, blue eyes curious. “Why? Do you know them?”

I perked my ears, suddenly grateful for Hiccup actually paying attention. Were those dragons from another nest?

More importantly, were they trying to take up the territory left behind after the Queen’s fall?

Hiccup seemed to be wondering the same. “Well, no, all of our nest is here. But where were they heading?”

“Southeast. Not in-line with Berk, but in the general direction,” the human said.

So they were traveling towards our nest, then. That...was not good.

My brother seemed frozen himself, his skin a paler shade than normal and eyes wide. It made the shadows blotching the skin under his eyes all the more apparent, making him appear almost like a ghost.

“What’s wrong?” The King asked. “Do you know something, Hiccup?”

He let his paw rest right at his sword, and both Hiccup and I tensed and drew closer to each other.

“No,” Hiccup said, somehow managing to keep his voice calm. He ripped his gaze from the sword and stared directly into his father’s eyes. “It’s just strange that there’s another nest so close to ours. They might be trying to find more territory or traveling, but we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“Which are?” The King pressed. He stepped closer, looming above.

Hiccup hunched his shoulders. “It’s too early to know. They might change direction or fly right past us.”

“Or they might attack us,” the leading human filled in with a bored tone.

“We don’t—we don’t know anything yet,” Hiccup repeated, growing more uneasy by the second. I let a soft growl escape me.

“Yes, we do,” the King interrupted. “We know we should be ready now. If those dragons attack Berk, we cannot be defenseless.” He turned to the other human. “Thank you, Gorge.”

“Sure thing,” the leading human said. He cracked a grin and said, “I’ll let you know if our impending doom is closer after our next expedition.”

With a grunt, the King grabbed Hiccup’s arm and began to drag him away. I hissed at him, just barely containing myself from striking him. I was _so tired_ of him forcing us to do his bidding and being unable to stop him. At least, not without severe retaliation.

“Wait, h-hold on, Dad,” Hiccup stammered, struggling to keep up and metal leg slipping on the slick ground. “What do you mean, ‘we have to be ready’?”

“Let him go!” I demanded, stalking just at the King’s heels and whipping my tail. Obviously, he couldn’t understand me—I knew that _far_ too well—but that only made it all the more frustrating.

“We need to fortify the island. I will send word to our neighboring tribes to see if they have metal to trade, but they have not for some time,” The King said, never looking down at us once to check for our input. “You’ll be having much more work soon if we are able to get more material to work with in the smithy. In the meantime, we need to push any household repairs off until all of our weapons are repurposed.”

“ _Let him go!_ ” I gasped when Hiccup almost took a fall, only managing to catch himself at the last second. He shot me a worried glance over his shoulder and waved his paw at me to stand down. I threw my head in disdain. We were Shadow-Blenders, we were Kings, and we should not be treated with such blatant disrespect.

“Dad, could you please just hold on a second—”

The King drew to a halt and stopped Hiccup just as he almost ran into him, holding both of his shoulders in his paws. “Will the dragons here fight for our tribe or against us?”

“ _Fight?_ ” Hiccup said, rearing his head back and trying to wriggle his way out of the King’s grip. “Dad, wait—you’re jumping to conclusions.”

“Are we safe from them? Will the dragons here fight for us?” The King demanded, tightening his hold. Hiccup tried to step back, but the King did not let him break away.

 _That_ was it. I was tired of the King using his greater strength to trap us, to _force_ what he wanted.

 “Define ‘ _us_ ’,” I snarled, stepping forward and showing my teeth at their fullest. “Hiccup is part of _our_ nest—not yours.”

The King’s eyes flicked over to look at me—and then he stiffened once he realized just how much he’d managed to piss me off. In one smooth, instinctual movement, his paw flew to his side and grasped his sword.

Hiccup wrenched away with a gasp, paws flailing, and hit the ground—hard.

“Hiccup!” I rushed towards him, guilt crashing through me. “Gods, I’m sorry—I should have caught you! Are you alright?”

Hiccup sat up, but his eyes were fixed behind me, his scales pale, his limbs locked in place. Fear-scent stung at me like deadly poison. I wrapped my tail around him and twisted back towards the King, who was frozen where he stood.

“We do not fight for _you!_ ” I snarled, opening my wings and standing tall. Lifting my head up, I called, “ _Our nestmates, to us!_ ”

Every nestmate in sight snapped to attention. The steady hustle and bustle of the docks  crashed to an abrupt stop, replaced by stillness and screams as they returned my call with a mixture of alarm and trepidation. Many took to the air, sending heavy drafts upon the deck and displaying just how _outnumbered_ the King and the rest of the humans were. Every eye was on Hiccup and me—and, by association, the King.

In mere heartbeats, every single dragon in the docks had readied themselves, prepared to eliminate the threat...and the King knew it.

I smirked and lifted my head as he became very, very still. His eyes trailed through the mass of our nestmates, no doubt wondering how he could possibly fend them off if he continued to threaten us. Hopefully the message would be driven through his thick skull.

“Hiccup,” he said in an odd, calm voice. “What’s happening?”

Hiccup was tense, leaning closer to me, eyes still set firm on the weapon. I hissed at it, and every dragon echoed me.

The King followed Hiccup’s gaze, brows scrunched in confusion. A moment passed, and then he started, flinching his paw back as if his sword had snapped at him.

“Is that—? Hiccup, I would _never_ —do you really think I’d use this to…?” He trailed off, finally taking the time to _look_ at us and finding all the answer he needed.

“My Kings, shall we strike?” A dragon—the Hum-Wing from before—growled from above.

The King grasped the sword again in his paw. He held the other paw straight out towards me, open and vulnerable, just out of biting range. I snorted, easing into a wider stance. Hiccup remained so stiff and still that he almost seemed tied down, placing his front paws flat on the dock and breathing in quick, shallow bursts.

“D-dad…?” He stuttered, almost too quiet for me to hear.

The sword gave an angry screech. Hiccup let out a small, choked gasp, recoiling backwards. I bared teeth and gums and filtered gas into my throat. A steady hiss filled the air as our nestmates followed my lead, preparing to fire.

The King turned away from us and thrust his paw in a wide arc.

The ocean reared up, catching the sword and swallowing it into its murky depths the moment it made contact.

I nearly choked on my fire, my ears standing straight up. Our nestmates murmured in confusion as the King of humans ripped weapon after weapon from his midsection, casting them aside like carrion. He turned back towards us and crouched down to Hiccup’s and my eye level, leaving his neck and underside exposed.

He paused, jaw working soundlessly as he tried to find the right words. “Hiccup?” He asked, sounding as lost as his weapon.

I finally managed to look away from him and back towards Hiccup. He was breathing rapidly, clawing at his chest, shaking and staring straight ahead into nothingness. Dread struck me deeper than any claw or fire. He had been right beside me, slipping away from the world second by second.

And I had done nothing to help him, too focused on fighting some damn human.

Swallowing my shame, I wrapped a wing around him and pressed the side of my face against his. “ _H-Hiccup_ ,” I tried to purr to him in as reassuring a tone as I could muster, “ _it is fine._ ” He tipped his head towards me, and I pressed, “ _Up—Hiccup, up! It is fine!_ ”

Hiccup leaned into me, bringing up a trembling paw to grab hold of me. He grit his teeth and clenched his eyes shut.

“ _It is fine,_ ” I soothed. “ _It is fine, Hiccup_ …”

No response. It wasn’t working—gods damn it, it wasn’t working! The King made a motion to come closer, his eyes wide and skin as pale as his son’s, and I shot a furious glare at him. Turning back to Hiccup, I wracked my brain for what to do—for a way to snap him out of it.

“ _Hiccup!_ ” I said as loud as I dared. I leaned in and drew my tongue over his face, despite the fact that he _hated_ the feeling of his fur getting wet.

Hiccup jolted in place. He snapped his eyes open, but still stared off into nothing. Slower than an elder, he brought shaky paws to the ground and lifted himself up, head bowed and shoulders hunched as if he were carrying a great weight on his back. I lifted my wing to give him some breathing room and nosed his soaked fur.

“ _Hiccup?_ ” I murmured.

He turned to me, eyes wide and distant. He was still shaking and gasping. I went to lick him again, and he leaned away this time.

“It’s not…” He breathed. “I—”

He cut himself off and sat up, suddenly alert. I glanced to the side and growled at the sight of the King, who had stood up and was standing much closer than before.

We stared at the defenseless King and he returned it, his eyes pained and his trembling paws held up to show he meant no harm.

Hiccup was the first to look away. He blinked up at our nestmates and lifted a shaking paw, giving a weak wave and a trembling hiss. It was a gesture our nestmates had grown used to, meant to be both calming and commanding: _Stand down._

Our nestmates clearly did not want to back down, but still bowed midair, many giving a quiet, “ _Yes, my King._ ” They lifted away towards new perches, and the dragons that had remained grounded loosened their battle stances.

The humans on the docks, deathly quiet up until this point, began to speak among themselves. Some were impressed—but the large majority were fearful, both at the sudden hostility from our nestmates and the fact that Hiccup had been the one to quell them—to _command_ them.

“I suppose that…answers my question.”

I almost sprung into the air in shock, having nearly forgotten how close the King was standing.

Hiccup looked away and took a deep breath, holding his paws to his chest. With a soft growl, he put his paws to the ground and stood up, leaning heavily on me for support.

“I…I’m sorry,” he rasped, his voice unsteady. “I was…startled.”

 _It’s not your fault!_ I wanted to howl. I pressed up against him, crooning in a soothing, reassuring manner.

The King took a shuddering breath and, in a single stride, closed the gap between us. I began to move away, tugging at Hiccup’s furs, but he remained where he stood on shaking legs.

The King hesitated. His eyes were glossy and wide and terrified.

“Hiccup…do you really think that I would hurt you?”

Hiccup grimaced as if in pain, hanging his head. I tried to shoot the King a deathly glare, but couldn’t keep myself from looking over at the ocean, where he had thrown his sword aside like rotten meat without the slightest hesitation.

“You grabbed your sword,” Hiccup said breathlessly, refusing to meet the King’s eyes. “I just…I don’t know!” He groaned in frustration, scrubbing at his head and clenching his fur in his claws. “I don’t know _why_ I…it reminded me of…of before.”

“It’s gone now,” the King said, gaining some of his confidence back. “It will never draw near you again. _I_ will never do so with anything ever again, Hiccup. I promise.”

We stared. The King wilted.

“…you believe me, don’t you?”

None of us said anything. A great shadow seemed to be looming overhead, cackling at our misfortune.

Hiccup gave me a lost look. I met his eyes, begging the gods for _something_ , for just a _little_ bit of our link to reignite.

My brother gave a long, tired sigh, seeming to shrink half his size. “I’m sorry for causing a scene again,” he said, defeated.

The King studied him with that same pitied look that he had worn yesterday after asking us if humans had attacked us before. He drew away slowly, reluctantly, and said, “You did nothing wrong, Hiccup.” For the first time, he looked away from his son and at his own subjects. “All of you, back to work!” He snapped.

The humans scrambled across the docks, unwilling to challenge their leader and cause even more tension.

“As for us…” the King sighed. “Let’s…head home for the day. There’s nothing much left to do here.”

“Alright,” Hiccup said, his voice dull. He reached a paw up to me, and I set my shoulder down to allow him to more easily get his footing. Immediately I felt my heart calm some, my muscles relaxing as he climbed to safety onto my back.

The moment he was secure, he slumped, barely holding on with limp paws. The King lifted a paw up for a moment, but didn’t dare touch him.

With a final glance at the discarded weapons, I hurried past the King, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

**o.O.o**

Astrid

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“I can’t believe myself!” I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air. “What was I thinking? Of _course_ talking about that would only make things worse.”

Stormfly looked at Barf and Belch and clucked. The Zippleback snapped to attention and pretended like it hadn’t been sniffing out my lunch, waiting for an opportunity to snatch it from me. Just behind it, Tuffnut was lurking, hoping to steal said lunch from his dragon after his dragon stole my lunch from me, because for some reason that was how he got excitement into his life.

“So your solution is to find Hiccup and bring it up _again?_ ” Fishlegs asked, sitting cross-legged beside me. He grabbed a stone from a pile he’d collected and threw it behind him at Meatlug, who caught it with vigor.

“Yeah, even for you, that’s kinda dumb,” Ruffnut said, walking over from her dragon and sitting between us.

I shot them a look, Tuffnut and Snotlout included. “Hey, _you_ guys were the ones who followed me here.”

“Eh, you’re the only fun one around here,” Ruffnut said, giving me a friendly shove. She leaned over and snagged one of Fishleg’s stones, throwing it at Tuffnut.

Tuffnut screamed in mock-agony, Barf and Belch sprung into the air in alarm, and Stormfly darted off in some random direction. In the quick aftermath, Meatlog trotted over and retrieved her snack. Meanwhile, Snotlout hung off to the side, trying to look smart and important, while Hookfang jolted and followed Stormfly.

“Stormfly!” I called when my dragon strayed too close to the village for comfort. “C’mere, girl!”

She perked up and hopped over, chirping excitedly. Hookfang tipped his head and followed her back. Several nearby villagers tracked their every movement.

We were sitting on a cliff that overlooked the docks, where the figure of Toothless—and, by extension, Hiccup—could just barely be seen standing below. We were just close enough to the cliffside that no buildings were around, meaning that our little space worked as a “pocket” of seclusion right in the middle of Berk. Of course, the pocket very quickly filled up when you tried to cram a bunch of teenagers and dragons into it.

“Why do you even care?” Snotlout asked, peering down at the docks. “Everything will be fine once everyone gets back to normal. I mean, look, they’re even doing that boring trading stuff Uncle Stoick used to make me do.”

“You say that like ‘normal’ is possible,” I sent back, holding a hand up to Stormfly. She rushed forward, eager to be petted.

“Or like it’ll actually happen,” Fishlegs added in a flat voice.

Snotlout shrugged. “Well, yeah! I mean, _obviously_ it won’t be _exactly_ like before. But things can get better again, especially with Hiccup back.”

Hookfang growled, eyes locked below. Stormfly stiffened and drew away from me, her tail held up straight.

“Well, that’s not gonna happen like this,” I said, glancing out at the docks. Nothing unusual. “Every day that nothing happens makes it worse. We can’t keep tip-toeing around the Gronckle in the room.”

“So what should we do then?” Ruffnut asked. “Make a ‘sorry we almost killed you’ card for Hiccup and his bestie?”

“Uh, _no_ ,” Fishlegs said. “We could _start_ by learning more about dragon culture, then applying it to our own so that we don’t have problems with misunderstandings. Then we can change some infrastructure so as to better accommodate dragons and prevent them accidentally breaking things. _Then_ we can—“

“Blah, blah, blah!” Snotlout groaned. “Who cares about that nerd stuff?”

“You will when it makes things better,” Fishlegs shot back. Meatlug lumbered up to him and lifted her head, staring at Snotlout with narrowed eyes. “The old norm will never happen, Snotlout, and trying to force it actually makes everything worse.”

“We’re Vikings,” Snotlout said, pounding a fist into his palm. “Forcing things is how we get stuff done. And last time I checked, it was the _dragons_ causing problems, not us. That’s why if Hiccup makes everything normal, it’ll all be fine.”

“Actually, Vikings are causing most of the ‘problems’ by over-reacting,” I snapped. “Like Dogsbreath.”

A shrill scream echoed off the cliffside, silencing whatever Snotlout had to say. In an instant our dragons had scrambled to the edge, nearly knocking all of us over.

“Woah!” I cried, just barely rolling out of the way as Barf and Belch charged forward. “Hey, what’s going on? Stormfly?”

My dragon didn’t respond, baring her teeth and raising the poison barbs on her tail. My heart dropped to my stomach at the sight.

“Hookfang! _Hello!_ ” Snotlout cried to his dragon. The Nightmare ignored him. The twins and Fishlegs were having the same luck as well.

“What’s going on?!” I said to myself, shoving my way through the mass of legs and tails and wings and popping out right next to Stormfly. I wrapped my arms around her neck to keep my balance. She didn’t even acknowledge me, too focused on what was going on below.

The docks looked…weird. We were too far up to really see anything, but I could see dragons and Vikings alike were all gathered in a thick crowd around Toothless. The Night Fury was standing tall and every single dragon was looking to him.

I squinted, and in a cold rush, I realized that the Chief was standing in front of him and Hiccup was on the ground.

Toothless settled into a crouch. The Chief turned and threw something off to the side, where it plunked into the ocean.

Toothless drew a wing up, hiding Hiccup from sight. Several moments passed. I could just barely make out Hiccup sitting up and waving. The dragons hesitated, but settled down nonetheless.

Hiccup seemed to talk to his father as dragons and Vikings stared. A few seconds later, the Chief angrily waved around, sending everyone off to their duties. Toothless nudged Hiccup onto his shoulders and then began to trot off, leaving the Chief behind.

 _What the hell?_ I thought.

“Aw, I was hoping for more blood,” Tuffnut complained even as our dragons relaxed around us and crept away from the cliff.

“Let me help you with that!” Ruffnut said. There was a loud, distinct _THONK_ followed by some screaming.

Both Stormfly and I remained standing still, looking down at the docks. For a brief moment, Stormfly glanced over at me.

“Stormfly?” I asked.

The Nadder clicked her tongue and set her eyes on the docks again. She leaned far over the edge, keen on keeping her eyes below.

There was soft crumbling as the ground shifted—and then gave out right underneath her. She squawked and threw her wings open, fluttering back over and landing a safe distance from the cliff. The other dragons immediately began warbling and grunting at her, and she folded her wings tight against her sides and ducked her head. A moment passed, and she snapped her jaw out, grabbing me by my belt and dragging me away from the edge.

My heart pounded as I tried to collect myself, but it didn’t take me as long as it used to. “ _Nice_ , Stormfly,” I teased, laughing with just a little bit of nervousness when she narrowed her eyes and butted my chest.

“Aw, she likes you!” Fishlegs piped up, grinning and holding his hands to his cheeks. “Although I’m pretty sure Meatlug likes me better.”

Meatlug rolled her eyes. I pressed my lips together, taking in the way her scales were lacking in sheerness, not nearly as glossy and firm as Stormfly’s were.

“Meatlug, what happened?” I asked.

The Gronckle snapped to attention, giving me a wide-eyed look. She paused and then threw her head with a grunt. Then she gave me an expectant look.

“I don’t...get it,” I stammered. Meatlug huffed.

“Not fair!” Snotlout said. “Hookfang doesn’t understand me, so why should Meatlug understand _Fishlegs?_ Hookie’s the better dragon, after all.”

Meatlug, again, shot Snotlout a look with a loud snort. Hookfang glanced at her, turned, and slapped Snotlout upside the head with his tail.

“Aw, Meatlug, you’re the best,” Fishlegs cooed, hugging her head. She purred and leaned into him, even wagging her tail a little bit.

I guess…if Meatlug wasn’t trying too hard to let us know, and Stormfly didn’t seem concerned, that it wasn’t too big of a deal. Still, it was chilling to see every dragon on the docks deadlocked on Hiccup and Toothless, like they were seconds from shooting fire everywhere.

“I’m gonna head back,” I said. “If Hiccup, Toothless, and the Chief are headed up, I can probably catch up with them.”

“I’m telling you, it’s a total waste of time,” Snotlout groaned, rubbing his face and shooting Hookfang a dirty look.

“You don’t have to follow me,” I said with a pointed look. I began to head towards Berk, patting Stormfly on her neck to get her attention as I went. “C’mon, Stormfly.”

Stormfly squawked and fluttered her wings, falling into step besides me. We stepped around Hookfang’s tail and Barf and Belch—who was currently tangling with the twins—and towards the road that led down to the docks.

“I’ll come, too,” Fishlegs volunteered, jogging over with Meatlug hot on his heels. “I’m curious to know what happened.”

“Hey! Don’t leave me out!” Ruffnut shouted, trying to get around her dragon but being intercepted each time. “Barf, _fine_ , lemme go!”

The Zippleback’s heads looked at each other. They lifted a paw, allowing Ruffnut to pass, and sat up to reveal Tuffnut squashed underneath.

“ _Freedom!_ ” Tuffnut cried, scurrying to his feet. “Now, _revenge!_ ”

Barf and Belch grabbed Tuffnut just as he lunged for his sister and pinned him to the ground, eyes half-lidded with clear annoyance. Ruffnut laughed, only to suddenly clam up when they turned their heads towards her.

“I’m being _perfectly_ nice,” she said carefully, sidling away. “You just stay there and keep Tuffnut there. He’s the one being bad, because I’m doing _nothin’_ wrong.”

“I’m actually okay with that,” Fishlegs said. Meatlug grunted.

“Alright, anyone else?” I said, although I couldn’t keep a smile from my face. I actually felt a little sorry for Barf and Belch. “Snotlout?”

He huffed, crossing his arms and glancing up at Hookfang. His dragon was quick to step around him and trot over to Meatlug’s right, giving a short head-bob to her.

“Um, totally,” Snotlout said. “Hookfang and I already talked about it and decided to go. Right, Hookfang?”

Hookfang didn’t respond, eyes trailing after some birds flying above. Meatlug nudged him, and he briefly looked down at her before looking up at the birds again.

“Alright,” I said. “ _Now_ we’re leaving.”

**o.O.o**

It took about two minutes for something to happen. I was honestly surprised; the walk had started to get a little boring.

Dragons and Vikings had been busying themselves with their own work, the Vikings keeping an extra-careful eye on the dragons as they did so. I tried to appear calm and collected; after yesterday’s incident with Dogsbreath, I’d noticed that people were already more on-edge around Stormfly than usual. Of course, she was blissfully unaware of this, and wouldn’t hesitate to run around right in someone’s striking range.

I spent a lot of time calling Stormfly to me, which she seemed happy to comply. Hopefully, the mere act of her being so obedient would be enough of a show that the villagers would calm down a bit around dragons.

“Stormfly, c’mere!” I shouted for the fourth time.

“Yeah, Stormfly, get with the program!” Tuffnut said with his “outside voice”. My ears rang, and several dragons nearby flinched away.

“Tuffnut, be careful about doing that around Meatlug!” Fishlegs scolded, worrying over said Gronckle.

My dragon had wandered off the moment I’d looked away. She had somehow managed to get halfway down the street, so her sense of hearing was spared. She was busy nosing at a door while a villager stood stock-still besides it, hand resting on the hilt of their sword.

“Stormfly!” I said again, breaking into a light jog. The villager looked over, and I recognized her as a butcher. “Hey, don’t worry, she’s just curious!”

“Then get it away from my shop!” The butcher snapped. Stormfly poked her nose at her and she flapped her arm angrily.

I came to a stop in front of Stormfly and pulled at her head. “C’mon, Stormfly!” I grunted. She leaned backwards and away with a snort, digging her claws into the ground. I put all of my body weight into it, but all she had to do with lift her head to make me lose my grip. Unbalanced, I fell backwards and hit the ground.

“Stormfly, what’s gotten into you?” I said, using my “commanding” tone of voice. Stormfly reared her head back, blinking and tipping her head to the side. I got to my feet and dusted myself off. “ _Back_ , Stormfly,” I ordered, holding my hands up and pushing her away. “Now.”

Stormfly took a step away—and then stood up straight as a yowl cut through the air.

I followed her eye and whipped around just in time to see a little golden blur plummet into the ground and kick up a cloud of dust. Right at its heels were several baby dragons, each the size of a housecat. They all plopped unsteadily onto the street and shrieked and cried, scampering around the little dragon that had fallen.

Stormfly charged past me, nearly knocking me to the ground again. She was joined by Meatlug, Hookfang, and quite a few other adult dragons that had leapt from the rooftops to investigate. The baby dragons became lost in a crowd of wings and tails, and the adults began to squawk and grunt at each other. It sounded like a whole lot of nothing—not for the first time, it baffled me that Hiccup could take all of that in and actually _understand_ them, even if he didn’t get a literal word-for-word translation.

“Astrid, what’s happenin’? What’re they doin’?” The butcher asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t really know.”

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, flicking a lock of amber hair out of her eyes. “Yer the one who’s been spendin’ the most time with dragons. How do you not know?”

“I’m not a dragon expert,” I said. “That would be Hiccup.”

“What, like he cares about us?” She huffed. “All he does is spend his time with _them_ , even though they apparently ‘made’ him kill people _._ ” She rolled her eyes to show just how much of that she believed. “Yer the one to go to when we got problems with these things.”

Ugh, I _so_ did not want to be the de-facto leader again. “I’m really not,” I said. “And that _did_ happen to Hiccup. I’m just nice to Stormfly, and that makes her a lot more tame—I mean, friendly. It’s really that easy. If you tried it, maybe you’d make friends with a dragon, too.”

She gave a hearty laugh. “ _Friends_ with a dragon? Oh, that’s certainly something!”

I frowned. With that kind of attitude, incidents like yesterday would never stop happening. “It is, though. If you’d just—“

A medium-sized Nightmare broke off from the group, sniffing at the air and eyes darting about. It locked in on us and lifted its head. A moment’s hesitation, and it sprinted right towards us.

“Woah—hold on!” I shouted, holding my hands up. The Nightmare swung its head and shoved me aside. It sniffed at the butcher’s door, and with one swing of its paw, the door was knocked right off its hinges.

 _”Back!_ ” The butcher commanded in fury, ripping an axe from her belt. The Nightmare had already begun to crawl indoors, and she twisted round and smacked its exposed neck with the blunt end.

The Nightmare gave a muffled yelp and scrambled backwards, pulling out of the butchery with a sizable piece of freshly-killed venison clamped in its jaw. It lifted its neck up to its full height and glared down at us, smoke curling out of its nostrils.

“You give that back!” The butcher said. She advanced on the dragon and it took several steps back, growling around the stolen meat and baring its teeth. Raising her axe, the butcher hissed, “ _Down!_ Now! That’s all I’ve left for days!”

The Nightmare, obviously, didn’t listen to her.

I rushed between them, holding my hands up. “Now wait—let’s try and figure this out—“

The villager broke into a sudden sprint, throwing her axe down right on top of one of the Nightmare’s paws. The dragon flinched away, shrieking and dropping the meat. Yet just as the butcher stepped forward to catch it, the Nightmare twisted violently. I had a moment to duck—and its tail swept right over my head and into the butcher, flinging her away.

The Nightmare spared a moment to nurse its bleeding paw and then lowered its head over the stolen meat, baring its teeth and snarling.

“W-wait—“ I tried, stepping in front of it and blocking the dazed villager from its view. “Easy, easy!”

The Nightmare met my eyes. It snapped its neck forward.

“ _AGH!_ ”

“ _Astrid!_ ”

The dragon clamped its teeth around my arm just tight enough to draw blood and flung me aside. I fell to the ground in a heap and clenched my teeth as my arm all but lit up in flames. There was a large bite mark spanning my entire forearm, each tooth having left a wound. Already bruises were blooming across my skin, and my shoulder _ached_ from having suddenly been thrown around. Through the pain and the cold, hammering rush of my heart, a small part of me noted that at least it hadn’t taken off my arm completely.

The sun blinked out above me, drawing my out of my stupor. Stormfly lifted her wings and tail, rattled her spines, and bellowed for all that she was worth.

The Nightmare narrowed its eyes, lifting its head and body far above my dragon.

“Stormfly, _run!_ ” I gasped.

Stormfly stood her ground, hissing and spitting. The Nightmare growled right back, opening its jaw wide to show teeth and gas. My Nadder all but howled, flapping her wings and stomping her feet.

With narrowed eyes, the Nightmare swung a paw and cuffed her over her head. Stormfly gave a surprised yip, spines standing on end—and then lowered her head with a low gurgle. The Nightmare didn’t even bother to check if she was okay, stooping down and scooping up the venison in its jaws. With one last disdainful snort, it trotted over to the crowd of dragons. I glared furiously at the proud way it carried itself, head held high and tail swaying across the ground.

Stormfly seemed to feel the same, hissing at the thief as it went. Then she started with a squawk and turned to me, whining. She bent down and nosed at my arm.

It took a shameful amount of self-control to keep myself from smacking her away. “I-I’m okay, Stormfly,” I soothed her, sitting up and glancing down at my arm. It still stung like hell and was now a creepy mismatch of deep purple and maroon, but the Nightmare hadn’t bit deep nor dislocated my arm. It had almost stopped bleeding as well—it had clearly been some sort of warning bite, something to teach me a lesson.

Stormfly ran her tongue over my wounds with a soft, pitiful croon. I patted her forehead with my good arm.

“Thanks, girl,” I said. “I appreciate you trying.”

A quick glance around showed that many villagers were standing with drawn weapons, tense and ready to fight. The butcher had risen to her feet but, at this point, knew that it was pointless to try to retrieve her goods. She scowled at the dragons, hand clenching around her axe.

“Don’t— _don’t_ do anything!” I said in as commanding a voice as I could after I’d been thrown around like a ragdoll. “They’ll just get more aggressive!”

Almost everyone looked over at me and—thank the gods—seemed to listen. Nobody made any moves towards the crowd of dragons, and that was good enough for me. This gave me enough time to fully take in my surroundings and wrack my brain for what to do.

The crowd of dragons still hadn’t dispersed. Something was off about it, though. After a second’s worth of searching, I realized: Meatlug was absent from the crowd.

I found her soon enough, standing in front of Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins with her wings extended and her head lowered. All of them were trying to dart around her towards me, but she intercepted each attempt with a lot more speed than to be expected from a Gronckle.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay! It’s just a little bruised!” I shouted over to my friends, waving at them for good measure. Meatlug glanced over her shoulder at me, and the four of them drooped in relief.

“Well hey, at least you get a cool battle scar outta it!” Ruffnut said, trying to lighten the situation. I cringed and met both Fishleg’s and Snotlout’s eyes. Both of them looked as stoked about that as I did.

“Well, there goes my plan to show that dragons will listen to us,” I sighed. With a soft groan, I gathered my legs underneath me and got to my feet. Stormfly chirped anxiously at me, and I patted her nose. “Shh, it’s okay, Stormfly.”

Stormfly dropped her head, folding her wings. She gave a heavy sigh and pushed her forehead against my chest. I wrapped one arm around her and petted her with the other.

The dragons suddenly began to make a different set of sounds—they were almost alarmed. Several of them turned to face the same direction, only to drop their heads and bodies low, spreading their wings out wide. Between them, I could see a tiny Gronckle lying on its side, gasping for air and surrounded by its playmates.

The crowd of dragons split in two. Toothless trotted through them, eyes narrowed and head high. Hiccup was perched on his back, swaying with each step Toothless took and so pale that his skin nearly glowed white.

Both of them saw the baby dragon at the same time. Toothless’ eyes widened and he jolted towards it, leaning down and nosing it. Hiccup slid unsteadily off of his companion’s back and crouched on all fours besides the Gronckle. He reached out and pawed at its head, and then did a double-take at the venison.

His voice barely carried through the street despite it being deathly-silent. “Where…did this come from?”

I swallowed, hesitating. Then I stepped towards the dragons, trying to keep from staring at the Nightmare. I had to be calm and collected; if anything, my time dealing with dragons—Hiccup included—had shown me that reacting only based off of emotions just screws everything up. “A dragon stole it from the butchery,” I said, trying to keep the anger and shock out of my voice. “The butcher tried to get it back, and…”

I brandished my bruised and bloodied arm for them to see. Hiccup reared back, mouth falling open. Toothless narrowed his eyes and sent a sharp snort towards the other dragons.

All of them lowered their heads and eyes. The Nightmare stepped closer, dragging its belly on the ground. I tensed as it got closer to me, shifting my weight so that I could spring in the opposite direction if needed.

Toothless seemed to give it quite the scolding, judging by the way that it sank closer to the dirt and whined. After several moment’s worth of hissing, the Night Fury threw his head towards me.

The Nightmare backed away and lifted its eyes up to mine. It crooned for a few seconds, then twisted round and slithered away.

“What was that all about?” I asked, turning to Hiccup. His eyes were locked on my injury.

“I didn’t…mean to…” He murmured.

I scrunched my brows together. “What?” I asked. Did he think that _he_ did this?

“I…” He shivered and clenched his eyes shut, holding his head in his hands. “It…it wasn’t me.”

“I…know,” I said, completely confused. “Both of you just got here.”

Hiccup shook his head, hunching over. Toothless rumbled, leaning into him, and he blinked a few times and sat up straighter. He looked down at the Gronckle and stammered, “R-right, just gotta focus…”

He continued to sit like a dragon, nudging the baby Gronckle. If I strained my ears, I could just barely hear him making low, rumbling sounds—something no human should be able to make. He even leaned down for a moment, almost like he trying to take in its scent, before pulling back with drooped shoulders. I couldn’t hold back a shudder, so I disguised it by holding my arms to my chest like I’d been swept up in a sudden chill.

“So…” I trailed off. I was starting to get a little annoyed that he was ignoring me, but more than that, I was growing more worried by the second. Hiccup had always been one to space out, and from what little I’d seen of him since he was transformed back, that had only happened more often. This was different, though—it was like his mind was lost in a fog, his every action distant and delayed.

I took in his skinny frame, his pale skin, and the heavy, bruise-like bags under his eyes. Adrenaline rushed through me as it finally got through my stupid head:

There was something seriously wrong with him.

Hiccup clucked his tongue and looked up at me. His eyes were dull and tired. “She’s exhausted,” he said in that odd, quiet voice. “She needs some food.” He reached out and grabbed the meat, dragging it towards the dragon. She didn’t make any move towards it, and he hummed and lowered himself to nose at her. Toothless made a low crooning sound, crouching and sniffing at her just like Hiccup had done moments before.

“Wait,” I said, miraculously drawing his attention. “That isn’t yours—it was stolen.”

Hiccup tipped his head a bit with a frown, but Toothless ignored me and continued to encourage the baby dragon to eat. She sat up on stumpy, shivering legs and began to pick at it, but didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.

Another twang of annoyance went through me at their less-than-concerned response. “Hiccup, you of all people should know—“ I cut myself off and shook my head, scolding myself for letting my anger get the better of me. That was a low blow. “Can you tell the dragons that they can’t just take things when they want to?”

Hiccup stared through me, his eyes distant and his face worn.

“Did...did you hear me?” I said, forcing my voice to be low and calm.

He blinked a few times. “O-oh, right.” He straightened up and looked around, like he had just noticed where he was. He jumped and he hunched over a little bit, undoubtedly taking in all of the well-armed villagers surrounding us.

Then Hiccup _growled_ , sounding so real and inhuman that if my eyes had been shut, I’d have thought it was Toothless. I stiffened, my mind flashing back to our conversation at the smithy.

If he did that here, surrounded by all these people…

“So, would you mind doing that?” I pressed, my heart leaping into action. Hiccup turned around to face me and even Toothless glanced up to listen. “You know, tell the dragons not to steal food? I get that the Gronckle is…tired…but it was really not cool how that Nightmare stole this and then attacked us for trying to get it back. Even Stormfly tried to help me out.” I gestured behind me at my dragon, who was standing with her head and tail low.

Hiccup pressed his lips together in a flat line and shared a look with Toothless. Toothless grunted.

“No, we should,” Hiccup murmured. His eyes flicked up towards me and then away guiltily. “Astrid, I—I’m really sorry that you got hurt. You shouldn’t have to be the one throwing yourself in the middle of things.”

“I _want_ to,” I said. “And I will if that means moving forward.” I held my arm up. “This isn’t going to last forever.”

Hiccup snapped his head and met my stare, eyes wide. Then he looked down at the stolen food and ill dragon. “I know,” he breathed, resting his head in his hand and closing his eyes for a brief moment. He shook it off and then turned to Toothless expectantly.

The Night Fury twisted his head towards the other dragons and barked. An emerald-green Nadder broke from the crowd and gently took the Gronckle’s scruff up in its teeth. It opened its wings and took off into the air, closely followed by the rest of the Gronckle’s playmates.

By the time I’d looked back towards Hiccup, he was already on Toothless’ back, slumped over like he’d ran for miles. Toothless nodded once at me, opened his wings, and leapt towards the roof of a house. He scrambled up onto it and then sprang towards one of the old torches we used during raids, clawing up to its top in just a few seconds. Even as dead-tired as he was, Hiccup didn’t seem to have any problems holding on.

Toothless let loose a roar that made the insides of my ears vibrate. Every single dragon in sight rose up into the air to meet him. The street was deserted—save for the Vikings—in just a few seconds.

My brain caught up with this, and I whipped around towards Stormfly.

She averted her gaze, crouched low, and launched into the air.

I watched her go, hand clasped around my arm and smearing with blood.

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

I tried to look awake and alert as Toothless addressed our nestmates, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I had no clue what he was saying—only that he was repeating, again, that we all had to try and be as non-confrontational as possible. It would do nothing if the people of Berk didn’t learn how to distinguish aggressive behavior from non-aggressive behavior. I mean, even a dragon trying to feed a sick hatchling had started a fight!

I thought of the wound Astrid had taken—a bruised, bloody bite that raked across her entire arm. She’d pretended that it was nothing, but I had been able to see the pain in her eyes. I had _recognized_ it, no matter how much I didn’t want to.

My mind’s eye flashed to a time that felt like an entire lifetime ago. Strangers cloaked in the choking smoke of war-fire, gas in my throat, the taste of blood, the feeling of flesh rending under my claws.

It was the stuff of my nightmares, but I wasn’t even _asleep_ —I couldn’t figure out why this kept on happening! The memories had chased me in my sleep for weeks now, plaguing me with guilt and exhaustion, and now they’d found a way to stalk me when I was awake, too.

 _It wasn’t me!_ I cried at them, trying to throw off a phantom shadow that had latched onto my back and began snapping at my wings. _Leave me alone!_

I forced myself to take a deep breath. _Get ahold of yourself, Hiccup!_ _They’re not real!_

Our nestmates all called out at once, showing their understanding of what Toothless had said. He dismissed them with a flick of his head.

I pressed my forehead against Toothless’ neck and closed my eyes. I was so, so tired.

Toothless tried to purr comfortingly at me. He shifted underneath me and gave a short warning. I held on tighter, and he launched into the air and went straight into a glide. A small smile graced my lips at the feeling of the wind blowing past me, the lightness of being in the air.

Too soon, Toothless was forced to land. He went into a light jog, careful to keep from jostling me.

I had no clue how long we wandered. More than once I dozed off, only to come to for a few moments due to a sharper-than-normal bump or Toothless suddenly changing directions. At one point, I dimly noted that he had stopped moving altogether and that it was very quiet, but my brain was too numbed for it to register.

Eventually I opened my eyes. To my faint surprise, the sun was setting, painting everything in vibrant gold and amber. I was curled up on Toothless’ back, and Toothless himself was sprawled on the ground, fast asleep. We were back in the forest again, something that brought with it relief from its familiarity. It had always been a place of seclusion for us—somewhere we could hide and be safe.

For awhile, I held perfectly still, trying not to move so that I wouldn’t wake Toothless up. I knew that he would sometimes watch me at night, like he was worried that my heart would stop again. He needed his sleep, too.

With Toothless asleep and nothing to distract myself with, I was at the mercy of my thoughts. I was so _angry_ at myself for acting so stupidly, for freaking out over little things. Yet I couldn’t stop myself from feeling bitter at Dad and the others, for the ways they had once treated us and the ways they still did. Not only that, but it was getting harder to feel safe around them, like they still saw me as a dangerous, wild dragon.

I could only do so much—and yet even _that_ wasn’t good enough. Even Astrid had to step in for me.

I hadn’t felt so down on myself since my first few months in the nest. Back then, I had been alone, struggling to fit in and never getting it right.

The Queen had been there, though. She had picked me as her favorite and treated me almost like her own child.

The thought sent a shudder of revulsion and guilt through me. I _couldn’t_ acknowledge it—not without being reminded of everything I had done, all the people that I had…

 _Don’t think about it_ , I told myself, not for the first time.

I clenched my hands into fists, wrinkling my nose and raising my lip at nothing. I just wanted everything to be normal. I just wanted to be able to go through my day without constantly being threatened and scared over little things. Nothing we were doing was working, and it made me want to scream in frustration at it all, at the gods that had let this happen, at the dead Queen for manifesting it, at my father for trying so hard to make things better, at myself for just making everything _worse!_

A small growl escaped me. Toothless’ ear twitched and his eyes opened.

“S-sorry,” I said, only becoming more upset at myself for waking him up.

“ _It is fine_ ,” Toothless soothed, twisting around to bump foreheads with me.

I reached up and held onto him like he had told me he was leaving, burrowing my head into his neck. Toothless pressed his head against my back in an odd hug, purring all the while.

“Toothless…” I began. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I said, “Do you really think that this will last?”

Toothless pulled away, brows low and eyes half-lidded. His ears and side-frills went a little limp.

“ _No, Hiccup._ ”

A cold claw clamped around my heart. I looked down. “That’s what I figured,” I whispered.

He lifted his broken tail up underneath my chin to force me to look at him. My eyes lingered on it for a few seconds.

With a reassuring smile, Toothless began pawing at the ground, ripping out chunks of grass within his reach and leaving nothing but dirt behind. I leaned against him and watched, half-wanting to ask him what he was doing. I couldn’t find the energy to do it, and stayed quiet instead.

He must’ve sensed my confusion, because he glanced over his shoulder at me and hummed, “ _Toothless drawing._ ”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. I sat up a bit, but still didn’t want to hop off of the warmth and safety of his back just yet.

He began to scribble in the dirt with a clumsy paw, probably just about as bad as I was with a pencil and paper. “ _Hiccup_ , _Toothless_ ,” he said, scribbling some vague, circular objects in the ground. He began to draw a bunch of other circular objects around “us”, and then patted the ground and gave a low, steady purr that rose up and down in pitch almost in an arc.

He was trying to teach me something. I craned my neck and squinted at the drawing. Well, it certainly wasn’t “trees”—I already knew that one. “So…it’s us…surrounded by something,” I started.

“ _Yes!_ ” Toothless said. “ _Hiccup_ , _Toothless_.” He then went on and repeated the word he was trying to teach me again.

My head started to pound. “They’re all…the same…?” I tried.

“ _Yes._ ” Toothless opened his wings wide and flapped them, and then pointed his nose at the sky.

I was completely lost. I couldn’t figure it out.

“I don’t know,” I snapped.

Toothless reared his head back with a surprised yelp. “… _Hiccup?_ ” He asked, aghast.

Anger swept through me, but not at him. I curled up, looking away and back towards the drawing. “I’m sorry, I’m just… _frustrated._ But I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

Toothless sighed and ran his tongue over me like he would a frightened nestmate. He thrummed in a soothing, comforting manner that made my eyelids droop.

“ _This_ ,” he said, pointing at the drawing of us surrounded by similar-looking things.

I stared down at it. Two circle-like objects that were us, surrounded by other circle-like objects.

A thought struck me. I shifted a bit, and the tightness in my chest relaxed a little. “…nest?” I asked. “Our nest?”

Toothless beamed, and a wave a lightness went through me. “ _Yes!_ ” He exclaimed. “ _Nest!_ ”

I pushed myself up so that I was more sitting on his back rather than laying on him. A real smile began to grow on my lips. Despite everything, learning to speak with Toothless made me feel almost…hopeful. I blinked, suddenly more alert and _here_.

“ _This nest_ ,” Toothless emphasized, placing his paw on the drawing. Then he moved it over to the right and began to draw a different set of objects. They were unnatural-looking, with sharp angles and rigid corners. He drew several of the rigid shapes, forming a group the same “size” as our nest. “ _This nest, no Hiccup Toothless, this Hiccup Toothless nest_.” He put his paw back towards ours.

“Uh, what?” I said. I forced myself through my sluggish thoughts, grasping at Toothless’ words for purchase just as I had on the docks. “Wait...can you repeat that?”

Toothless grinned and wiggled a bit, just as caught up in speaking to me as I was. “ _This Hiccup Toothless nest_ ,” he said, pawing the circles. “ _This nest._ ” Then he put his paw on top of the angular shapes. “This _nest,_ ” he repeated, emphasizing “this”.

For a few seconds I turned his words over in my head. “Oh—so it’s separate,” I mused.

“ _Yes. This nest, no Hiccup Toothless nest._ ”

“It’s a nest, but not ours.” I tipped my head to the side. “Then who’s is it? The nest that the fishing boats saw?”

Toothless shook his head and pointed the human way off in the distance.

“…Berk,” I sighed.

Toothless nodded. “ _B-e-r-k._ ”

The sound for it was just about as much as I expected: something he almost growled, his tone flat and a little bit of hissing thrown in there. It was a sound that meant _be cautious_.

“How do you say ‘us’?” I asked on sudden impulse, trying to keep the good mood rolling while it lasted.

My brother smiled, eyes half lidded. The word for “us” was pronounced with a short burst of warm, loving thrums.

Somehow, it made me feel a lot better, like I wasn’t trapped and tied down anymore, giving me the freedom to move and breathe and think.

“ _This us,_ ” Toothless said, pointing. “ _No this us, this Berk._ ”

He dug his claw into the dirt and slashed a thick line between them, separating them. He then hissed at it like it was an eel.

“Bad?” I guessed.

“ _Bad,_ ” Toothless hissed. He gestured broadly at the drawing, and then said, “ _This us. This us, Berk. Bad._ ”

He then smoothed the slash over, erasing it just like I used to do when I would write as a Shadow-Blender. In its place, he put his claws near our nest and drew a horizontal line between “Us” and “Berk”. He gave a short, happy purr.

“ _This good._ ”

I drooped. “I wish it was like that.”

“ _No us this,_ ” Toothless agreed. He leaned in and pressed his head against mine. In a defiant tone, he patted the horizontal line several times and said, “ _Yes this. Us this. Us good!_ ”

In a flash, it all came together, neat as a completed puzzle.

 _We can fix things_ , is what Toothless was trying to say. _We may be broken now, but it is not the end. We can make things good again._

_It can be okay._

I turned and threw my arms around him, burying my face into his warm scales. Toothless brought up a wing to wrap around my back and rested his head on mine, humming comfortingly.

“Thank you Toothless,” I said, my voice cracking. I pulled away with an embarrassed grin, ducking my head. “I guess I just…I really needed to hear that.” I studied my inarticulate hands, opening and closing them. “Nobody will even acknowledge that everything’s messed up. I just…I’m so glad to hear that, and to hear that it can still be…better.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Toothless said, eyes lit with determination. “ _Us good._ Hiccup _good._ ”

“But you’re better,” I teased. Toothless raised an eyebrow at me like I’d just told him a ridiculous joke. I snorted.

As carefully as I could, I set my foot and prosthetic on the ground and rose to my feet. I winced as a small spike of pain came from my missing leg; sitting around for long periods of time would make it act up every now and then. Toothless got up as well, stretching his legs and back as he went.

The tension between dragons and Vikings, Dad, the other nest…there was just so much. It was hard not to feel overwhelmed. We needed to...no, we needed to approach this one step at a time, not all at once.

“I…think I might know where to start,” I said slowly.

“ _Good_ ,” Toothless said, relieved. “ _No Toothless!_ ”

“I don’t know, you’ve kinda been on some sort of wisdom streak,” I said, pawing at him. He snickered and swatted his tail at me.

For the first time this day, I laughed. It was small and timid, but it was something. Toothless smiled as big as he could and nudged me.

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s practice. Can you quiz me on some words again?”


	4. Chapter 4

 

Hiccup

“ _Hiccup,_ why?” Toothless moaned.

It was early—so early that my blind, lame eyes could barely make out the road just a few feet in front of me. The sky was just beginning to light up off to the east and a brisk wind rushed through the village.

I shuddered and clutched my arms in as cold waves of anxiety burst from my chest. On instinct, I rolled my shoulders. But I no longer had wings to draw in for warmth, and I was left exposed. “Because we have to.”

“ _No_ us!” He snapped, frustrated. I jolted at the sudden, angry tone, and immediately Toothless lowered his head and tail, crooning, “ _Sorry, sorry, sorry_ …”

“It’s alright,” I said, turning to him and putting a paw on his neck. Toothless lifted his head, and I pulled him closer in a hug. My racing heart calmed some at his closeness, and I noticed him relaxing as well. “I know it’s a stupid, crazy idea…but with you here, not too much can go wrong, right?”

“ _Yes_!” Toothless protested. “ _Me nervous. Human no friend, no ally. Why help, why danger?_ ”

Despite wanting to climb onto the safety of his back, I stepped away and turned back down the desolate road. We walked at such a slow pace that Toothless had to stop and wait every few seconds. “I know it’s stupid,” I said again, after pausing to try and collect my racing thoughts. “And I know it probably won’t work. But we have to start somewhere, don’t we?”

Toothless frowned, his eyes wide and concerned. I stared into them and tugged at the empty shell of my magic.

The burn of its emptiness was still fresh and raw.

“ _No want,_ ” Toothless said. He huffed, glaring down the pitch-black road like it was hiding something. “ _Hiccup certain?_ ”

“No,” I admitted, feeling the nervousness and nausea I had come to love creep back and leave me almost lightheaded. “I’m…a little scared, to be honest. But I’m tired of feeling like we’re just at the mercy of everyone else. Like we just have to sit around and wait for things to _happen_ to us.”

Toothless turned to me with a surprised look. He spoke in dragon, forgetting for a moment that I couldn’t understand. Then he shook his head, leaned in, and pressed briefly against my side with a comforting purr. “ _No us. Human. No us._ ”

“What do you mean?” I said after spending a few seconds failing to figure it out.

“ _That no Hiccup_ ,” Toothless said. “ _Human fight, human danger._ ”

“I don’t…” I slumped, holding myself even tighter. We passed by some taller buildings, and the darkness closed in. “I still don’t get it. I’m sorry, Toothless.”

“ _It is fine_ ,” he hummed, nudging me with his nose. “ _Need word._ ”

“You can say that again,” I sighed. I straightened and looked around to get a sense of our location. All at once the dimness and the lack of clarity sprung up at me. My ears felt muffled and numb, and I swiveled my head around in a sore attempt at picking up sounds from our surroundings. It took me a moment, but even with my dulled, useless senses, I could still recognize where we were.

My heart pounded in my chest, loud enough for me to count each beat. I swallowed. “We’re here.”

“ _What?!_ ” Toothless gasped. He squared his feet and his teeth glinted in the darkness as he unsheathed them. “ _Certain?_ ”

I nodded. “Y-yeah.”

Toothless wrapped a wing around me. “ _Hiccup ready?”_ He pressed in a gentle, sympathetic tone.

I leaned into him for a moment. “With you, I am.”

We spared a moment—both of us tense and nervous and not really wanting to be here—and then pressed on.

This was the right place, I knew; we’d actually spent the last few days spying until we were sure. There was still that lingering doubt that I was making a mistake, that I was throwing us into danger, that I was wrong _again…_

I lifted a shaking paw, slowly clenched it into a fist, and knocked on the door.

A muffled voice deep inside the house shouted a complaint. We waited in silence, standing somewhat awkwardly and almost hoping that whoever had spoken would ignore us. Then Toothless perked up and let out a low growl. It was the only warning I had.

The door yanked open, and I fought the urge to turn and leap into the sky. My limbs locked up as I met his eyes.

“H-hi, Dogsbreath.”

The light pooling from his house shrouded him, casting his face in almost complete darkness. I could just barely make out his features as he wrinkled his nose and hissed with venom, “ _You._ ”

In the corner of my eye, Toothless lowered his head and bared his teeth. I didn’t let myself look away, no matter how much I wanted to.

“We don’t want to cause trouble,” I began, struggling to keep my voice from shaking as my chest tightened and my mouth went dry. “We’re here to—“

“To gloat?” Dogsbreath growled. “To rub salt in the wound, now that ya know ya have the Chief’s protection?”

I shook my head. “No, we’re here to…to talk.” I said the last part lamely, realizing just as the words left my mouth how _stupid_ they sounded.

Dogsbreath snorted. “I’m not apologizin’. Ya don’t _deserve_ one, and despite that, I was still the one punished for protectin’ family.” His voice became low and menacing. “If it weren’t fer them, I’d kill ya where ya stand, banishment be damned.”

His eyes held that promise in them that I had once seen in my own father’s eyes: that certainty that all he needed was an opening, a moment of weakness, so that he could strike and put an end to it all. A cold, nauseating gale of dread rushed through me. I blinked rapidly, fighting to keep calm.

Toothless leaned into me. It was enough purchase to haul myself back into the present. Still, even though I’d rehearsed this conversation in my head so many times, all of the sudden my “preparations” were thrown completely off-kilter.

“We don’t want to fight,” I said after a short, tense silence.

“Oh, don’t ya?” Dogsbreath laughed with a sneer. “That perfectly explains how you two called yer entire nest on the Chief a few days back, don’t it? Is that why yer really here? To make an example outta that?”

I grimaced, sharing a guilty look with Toothless. “N-no, of course not. We—“

“Then I don’t see why yer here, wastin’ my time and keepin’ me from fulfillin’ my punishment.” Dogsbreath stepped out of his house and shut his door, and I stumbled out of his way. He pointed in the general direction of the docks. “If ya don’t remember, I’ve been put on hard labor duties from sunrise to sundown for quite some time because of _you_.”

 “ _No us_ ,” Toothless snarled, his voice dripping with hatred. “ _You!_ ”

I couldn’t help but feel frustrated as well, even as my head spun and my heart hammered. I squared my shoulders and looked directly into Dogsbreath’s eyes. “You were the one to attack us, Dogsbreath.”

For a horrible moment, Dogsbreath looked like he was ready to lunge at us right then and there. His hand rested at his hip, but he was unarmed—which really only made his clear desire to attack us all the more intimidating. He settled for saying nothing, glowering with a malice-filled intensity that I had not seen from a human in a long time.

“We want to keep that from happening again,” I said again in a calming tone—more for myself and Toothless than him, honestly. Holding my hands out, I said, “Everyone’s so wound up that everything’s starting to boil over.”

“Just like what happened to that girl Astrid, yes?” Dogsbreath said pointedly.

I grimaced, lowering my head. “Yes, just like with Astrid,” I ground out as guilt, again, crashed through me. “But just _telling_ everyone to be nice to each other doesn’t work. Dad could hold all the meetings he wants, and we could talk to our nestmates all day long, but it will never do anything.” I straightened up again and reached out to Toothless, leaning into him.

“That’s why we’re here. We have to work to make things better.”

“And ya picked me first,” Dogsbreath said. “I’m _real_ touched.”

Toothless wrinkled his nose and caught my eye, throwing his head. He was ready to give up on this, having never thought it was a good idea in the first place.

But I _needed_ it to work. I needed to know that I could still do _something_ , that I wasn’t a total screw-up. I needed to know that I wasn’t completely useless all over again.

Because if I couldn’t even fix a relatively small problem like Dogsbreath, then how could I hope to make things better with my father or the rest of the village?

“What else can we do?” I asked in a last, desperate grab at making this work. Dogsbreath’s eyebrows kicked up in surprise. “What can we do to make things better?”

“How about you get rid of the dragons.”

“ _No_ ,” Toothless and I both said, shaking our heads.

Dogsbreath regarded us both with that wide-eyed looked that crossed the faces of humans when a dragon responded to their words. Then he shook it off, growing spiteful again. “Ya know, even though you stayed away from Berk, ya seem to expect us to forget what you were,” he said, trapping me in place with his eyes.

My heart plummeted. _No, not this, not this…_

“We know what kind of terror you were, the unholy and bloodthirsty way ya two took down village after village. Even now we’re struggling to find trade as they recover, and our fishin’ nets are comin’ up more and more empty with each trip.”

_It wasn’t me! I didn’t mean to!_

“I was on the ships during the battle. I saw that monster with my own eyes. I saw the way you turned its own forces against it in a matter of seconds.” He narrowed his eyes. “So how can I possibly know ya won’t do the same to us, the next time something doesn’t go yer way? If you could turn on yer so-called ‘Queen’ dragon so easily, then how quickly would you do the same to us?”

 I stood statue-still, halfway there and halfway not, unfocused and overwhelmed and furious at myself for freezing on the spot. “It wasn’t…it wasn’t me,” I breathed as my emotions clashed against each other, leaving me dazed.

“Yes, it was. Or am I mad?” Dogsbreath pursed his lips, looking over me with scrutiny. Toothless growled low in his chest, leaning into me and reminding me that I was not alone.

After a moment to collect myself, I stammered out, “Y-you’re right. It was me, in body, but in my mind…it was the Queen. She could control other dragons, and I didn’t even know what she was doing. I didn’t—I would _never_...I promise you, it wasn’t _really_ me. And…” I sighed, hanging my head. “I think about it every day and night. I haven’t forgotten, and I haven’t forgiven myself either.”

Toothless whipped towards me with a small whine. I knew that look; it was the “we are definitely talking about this later” look. Oh, great.

Dogsbreath at first paused, only to give a wry chuckle. “At least ya got a healthy dose of shame in ya, I’ll hand ya that. But my point still stands, no matter what you or yer father and Gobber say.”

I looked up at him, meeting his scornful eyes for a long moment. I wanted nothing more than to leave, to go back to the safety and seclusion of the forest or to the warmth and comfort of our nestmates.

That meant giving up.

I was so tired of running away and leaving these festering wounds exposed to start fight after fight, filling every day with worried anticipation of the next blow. It was just too much. I couldn’t take it anymore, feeling useless and vulnerable all the time, unable to look forward to or even _imagine_ a future.

And so, in blind stubbornness, I actually pushed back when normally I would have rolled over and sullenly accepted yet another loss.

“I understand,” I murmured. “I understand why it’s hard for all of you, because it’s just as bad for us.” Raising my voice to appear more confident, “I don’t know how to prove to you what the Queen did. I don’t know how to show you that we won’t turn on you. Not when dragons are being attacked by Vikings, too. But I’m trying, and that’s all that I can do. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t want to start making things better. For all we knew, you would try to kill us the moment you saw us, but we still came here to try to fix things.”

Dogsbreath had alarmingly good poker face when he wanted one. I struggled to read his expression as the sun began to rise.

“I’m a simple warrior,” he said. “Nothin’ more, nothin’ less. I know only what I see, because that’s all that matters. What I see is my home filled with dragons that do what they want, when they want. What I see is a Night Fury and a dragon-boy who was once a Viking, who both have the power to turn them on us any moment, and who are afraid of us.”

His expression softened into a heavy frown. “I am not the person to ask how to bring peace between Vikings and dragons. I don’t know why ya came to me instead of yer father, who is the man ya _should_ be talkin’ to. But I also give credit when credit is due. You say you are tryin’, and I can see that. But I cannot do what yer askin’ of me. The dragons are breakin’ and stealin’ what they want, and if ya haven’t noticed, _they_ don’t hesitate to attack Vikings, too. I will not stand by for the sake of keepin’ peace.”

“ _Human no listen_ ,” Toothless griped in frustration.

He meant it as a complaint—his version of giving up and saying, “This human is _still_ not listening to us!”

I didn’t catch that right away, though.

The word for “human” and “dragon”, I had discovered over the past couple days, sounded almost exactly the same. When Toothless had taught me those words, I had found it ironic and almost fitting how close they were.

They were so similar that, in my tired and stressed-out state, I misheard Toothless. So while he had meant to say _humans_ were not listening, I misinterpreted him as saying _dragons_ were not listening.

“Nobody is listening to each other,” I murmured to myself, looking down at my hands. Toothless tipped his head to the side, confused.

“Now, that’s enough,” Dogsbreath said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You’ve done what ya came here fer. I can’t spare any more time talkin’ to you.” He gave me one last stern, suspicious look. “You’ve given me somethin’ to think about, so I’ll return the favor. What yer doin’ is not good enough, even though yer right that just talkin’ don’t fix anythin’. It’s up to you to find out what does. Yer time with dragons has made ya forget that we Vikings have only ever known how to fight dragons.”

Not knowing what more I could say, I hesitated and then nodded. This seemed to satisfy Dogsbreath, and he turned towards the sunrise and began to head down to the docks.

Toothless and I pressed close to each other, watching him go in silence. My heart still hammered in my chest and my thoughts lingered on the past, on my struggles and fears. The only thing distracting me from it was the pure _surprise_ rushing through me.

Despite wanting anything else, I had truly expected to be attacked or yelled at or chased away. I would have never thought that _Dogsbreath_ of all people to take a moment to consider what I was saying. To be honest, I had come into this braced for a loss and merely hoping for the opposite.

The shock of this tiny success was so unexpected that I wanted to turn to Toothless and ask him if I had actually been there for the conversation. We had changed his mind, even if only a little bit. He had even told us he would think over what I’d said.

 _Does this mean…I really_ can _make things better?_ The thought was almost foreign after exhaustion and loss and frustration had become my new norm.

Mulling this over, I turned towards the shadow-shrouded west, staring out at the soft hills that lead towards my house—and my father.

“And, Hiccup!” Dogsbreath suddenly called from much further down the street, making both of us jump and whip back towards him. “If ya really want ta prove that yer not against us, ya need to stop spendin’ all of yer time hidin’ among the dragons.”

He didn’t wait for a response, spinning back around and heading away. In just a few seconds he turned a corner and disappeared. We were left alone in the cool, drowsy street as the sun peaked high enough to cast light over the buildings, finally allowing me to see.

**o.O.o**

Toothless

Well. I suppose…that could have gone…worse?

To be quite honest, it was almost pitiful how both Hiccup and I considered our conversation with the human “Dog’s-Breath” a victory rather than a failure. Really, he had been quite uncooperative and had only yielded ever-so-slightly. We could only take what we could get, though, and it seemed to fill Hiccup with some much-needed confidence. So I wasn’t going to complain…as much.

“Stupid human,” I groused to Hiccup as we wandered through the dark pathways of the human nest. “Why do they refuse to listen when we explain the Queen’s magic? How many times do you have to repeat yourself for them to understand? Then they have the audacity to act _surprised_ that we don’t spend time with them! Where is the logic?”

“Come again?” Hiccup asked, although I could tell by his expression that he had a fairly good idea of what I was complaining about.

“ _Ugh!_ ” I said.

With a small smile, Hiccup paused and butted heads with me. “Hey, at least we got _something_ out of it.”

“Yes, and that reminds me.” I spun towards him and narrowed my eyes, already having decided on giving him one hell of a lecture even if he only understood a small percentage of it.

In return, Hiccup quickly adopted his “uh oh” expression. He tried to steer the conversation away, “So, Toothless, I was thinking—“

“ _No_ ,” I cut him off. “ _Hiccup speak—_ here. _No Queen. Hiccup sad? Why? Why no speak?_ ”

Hiccup’s good mood vanished. He seemed to age in an instant, his face lined with weariness, and I nearly lost my resolve right then and there. Averting his eyes, he said, “It’s not that big a deal, Toothless.”

“ _This? No it is fine—bad. It is bad._ ”

He took a moment to translate the new use of the terminology. Then, with a small sigh, he slowed to a stop and stared far, far past the nest.

“…I don’t know,” he said at last. “There’s so many things going on, I’m just trying to focus on not drowning in all of it.”

He stopped then. My mind flashed back to that horrible time when we’d escaped the cove and taken shelter within the forest, to when Hiccup had reached his ultimate low, even going so far as to allude to…

The memory was too dark for me to bear, filling my heart with ice. I poked him to get him to speak, and when he ducked his head and eyes submissively, I poked him harder.

“Later, Toothless.” A hint of irritation crept into his voice. “Besides, it’s not something I really want to talk about in the middle of the street. People are gonna be waking up soon.”

As if to prove this, a wood-cave swung open right beside us, flinging against the exterior with a loud _BANG_. Both Hiccup and I nearly leapt out of our scales. The human, similarly, stopped right where they stood and gaped at us.

“…Good morning?” Hiccup said after several seconds’ worth of staring.

The human threw a paw out, grabbed the part of the wood-cave that moved, and swung it shut.

“ _Oh, good!_ ” I commented, layering as much sarcasm into the words as I could. “Honestly, where are their manners?”

This brought a smile back to Hiccup’s face, which was good enough for me. “Maybe they aren’t a morning person,” he said. He bit his lip and then faced me. “I’m sorry for snapping at you just now, Toothless.”

“ _No, no! It is—_ “

“No, it isn’t. You’re right.” He deflated a bit. “All of you are. You, Dad, Astrid…and now even Dogsbreath. We’re just…hiding from our problems, because they’re hard to deal with. And I mean the _real_ problems, not little things like whether or not someone likes us.”

“Hatchling-steps, Hiccup,” I reminded him, forcing my voice to be gentle and reassuring. “ _Need wait. Wait good._ ”

He frowned, eyes filled with guilt. “But not all the time. I think we’ve done too much waiting.”

“ _No_ ,” I disagreed as firmly as I could. I wanted to shake sense into him, to tell him that these things take time, that he shouldn’t feel bad that he wasn’t instantly better like his father so desperately wanted him to be. We had yet to build the vocabulary for a conversation of that depth, however, which resulted in my argument being composed of a not-so-convincing word rather than a speech.

Instead of responding, Hiccup paused in the middle of a crossing of pathways and headed down the one to our left. It led to the smoke-cave that Hiccup still had to “work” at. We were _supposed_ to be there already, but honestly, who cared? Besides Hiccup’s father, that is.

We walked a few meters, and then Hiccup drew to a sudden stop, back straight and face taut. He hummed in indecision, wringing his paws together.

“ _Hiccup?_ ” I asked. “ _Okay?_ ”

“Yeah,” he said, lost in thought. “I just…”

He stared off into nothingness for a few more seconds, spun around, and trekked back up to the crossroads. I followed with no small amount of confusion, but certainly wasn’t about to complain about us abandoning our “job” at the smoke-cave.

At the center of the paths, Hiccup stopped once more. He looked between where we’d just gone and the path to the west with clear reluctance. The westward path itself was empty and still covered in shadows, the low sunlight not having quite reached it.

Realization had just clicked in my head when Hiccup took a first wobbly step towards it, followed by another. He was tense, eyes slightly narrowed, head lowered, and teeth almost bared. He continued west anyways. I pressed up against his side and tried to appear calm, but couldn’t keep my wings from opening and my tail from whipping about.

We walked together in the company of early-morning birdsong without need of words. It was almost like we were hatchlings playing a hiding game, like if we were quiet long enough, then we could scrape by our problems unnoticed. Admittedly, I would have liked to have more warning about _this_ so that I could brace myself—but our lives were full of surprises, and unpleasant ones at that. Hiccup seemed to be on a much-welcomed “confidence streak” as well, and I wasn’t about to go and send that up in flames.

Especially when, admittedly, the _wrong_ path—the very thing Hiccup was wrongfully beating himself up over—was the more preferable choice in the short-term.

That being said, I certainly hadn’t forgotten our conversation that had been cut off. The sheer amount of guilt weighing Hiccup down was becoming more and more noticeable by the day, and it _terrified_ me. He was lucky to get a few hours of sleep each night, often awakening covered in sweat and fear-scent. He wasn’t gaining any more weight and he always seemed to be cold. He had no appetite, often going an entire day before remembering that he hadn’t eaten anything.

And then there was the obvious problem: the panic attacks. The sudden and unforgiving memories that descended on him, dragging him by his tail through his past.

He needed to talk. He needed to let it out, or he would never begin to recover. But he thought that doing so was burdensome to others, and _still_ avoided the subject like his life depended on it. He was just like when we had escaped the cove in the peak of his depression, and the implications of that comparison sent a shudder down my spine.

“Dragoness of the Moon, Toothless, what’s with the scary face?”

I jumped, snapping out of my thoughts. “ _What?_ ”

Hiccup gave an unsteady smile and pressed closer with his odd little “human-version” purr. “You looked really freaked out. I’m the one who does that, remember? Heh…this is where you laugh, by the way.”

I didn’t. Shaking my head, I admitted, “ _Me worried._ Very _worried._ ” Turning to him, I met his eyes. “ _Worried you._ ”

Hiccup looked away. “…I’m sorry.”

I had to keep myself from sighing, from showing the frustration on my face. “ _It is fine,_ ” I said, taking a new angle. “ _Hiccup speak? Please?_ ”

He dipped his shoulders and held his arms like he always did when he was uncomfortable. Again, my resolve wavered, but I didn’t want to give up this time. Sometimes, a little tough love was necessary. I wasn’t above sitting on him with my so-called “fat behind” to get him to finally start talking—especially now. Not when we were _so_ close. Dragon of the Sun, he was even _admitting_ now that we had to address this, when a few days ago he would have denied it!

“I guess…” Hiccup started.

I leaned in and focused on him as much as I could, ears and side-frills fully extended and showing in every way that I was listening and _wanted_ to listen.

“Hey, Hiccup! Wait up!”

 _Gods damn it!_ I growled to myself, looking around my shoulder as Hiccup straightened and swung around.

Astrid was running towards us from Berk, the Two-Walker Stormfly keeping easy pace behind her. They both came to a stop in front of us, and Stormfly immediately dropped into a deep bow.

“Good morning, my Kings!” She chirped. “We’ve been looking for you for ages! I think.”

 _And your timing is terrible_ , I wanted to snap at her. “We’re very busy,” I said, flicking my head. “So if you don’t mind…”

Stormfly tipped her head. “Don’t mind what?”

Her human interrupted her. “Gobber’s been looking around for you—apparently being a little late is the end of the world.” She rolled her eyes. “Stormfly and I were out and he pulled me over and yelled at me to go find you again.”

“Alright,” Hiccup said distractedly, eyes locked on her arm. It was quite an impressive wound, scaling up and down her entire limb. “How is that?” He pointed with his nose.

It took Astrid a moment to figure out where he was gesturing. She not-so-discreetly hid her arm by holding her paws behind her back, exposing her stomach. “It’s no big deal, Hiccup. Don’t worry about it. I’m serious—don’t give me that look.”

He certainly _did_ look worried about it. “I’m sorry, Astrid,” Hiccup said, eyelids and shoulders drooping. “You shouldn’t have to stand in for us, and you shouldn’t have to hunt me down to get an apology out of me.”

Astrid’s eyes flickered over to mine, bright with confusion and concern. “But you _did_ apologize, Hiccup—right away. Don’t you remember?”

Judging by his expression, he didn’t.

“And besides,” she started to move closer, but stopped herself and kept her distance. “Like I said before, I _want_ to help. Both of us do.”

Hiccup and I shared a look. I personally wanted to distance myself from this human as much as possible—I could only take so much over-compensation before I got annoyed with her continuous attempts to make things “right” with us. Yet she was likely our _only_ human ally that truly sided with us when it mattered, and for that, I was grudgingly grateful.

Which meant that we probably shouldn’t just brush her off, no matter how much I wanted to for the sake of some much-needed privacy.

“ _Human help?_ ” I whispered.

Hiccup frowned and nodded. To Astrid, he said uncertainly, “I was actually thinking…do you mind helping us with something?”

Her face lit up. She nodded enthusiastically with a huge smile. “Of course!” In an instant, she composed herself, all business. “It has to do with the other day, right? I heard what happened on the docks, but there’s a lot of different stories going around. What was that all about?”

Well, she certainly didn’t beat around the bush. Her straightforwardness was almost foreign after weeks of humans tip-toeing around us. Hiccup seemed just as taken aback by it at me, blinking at her in surprise.

“It was…another incident,” he said after a moment’s hesitation, holding his arms. Slumping over, he went on, “It was my fault. I just…” He gestured vaguely and shrugged. I leaned into him and purred.

Astrid let him trail off without further explanation. “I’m sorry that happened,” she said, eyebrows drawn together in concern. “For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you. For everything, I mean. But I really do think it’s good that you’re spending more time in Berk, even at the forge.”

This actually drew a small smile from Hiccup. “…Thanks. Uh, anyways, the thing I was going to ask you about actually has to do with…that,” he nodded at her arm, which was still hidden out of sight. “I think the root of it is that nobody is listening. Humans aren’t listening to me and Toothless, and our nestmates aren’t listening to you guys.”

Astrid nodded, eyes focused. “I think you’re right—about one thing. I’ve been thinking a lot about it, especially after that incident with the Nightmare. What’s really going on is that everyone is acting like there are two tribes living on the same island: the Viking tribe and the dragon tribe. And what you just said kinda proves how people are thinking like that.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. There _were_ two nests on the island.

“That’s…a different way of looking at it,” Hiccup said, a little surprised. He cast a guilty look my way. “And I guess we aren’t making it much better.”

Astrid nodded. “It’s a big shift, and most people are too stubborn to change. Do you have any ideas of what to do?”

Hiccup looked at me. I blinked and shrugged.

“Maybe…” Hiccup shifted on his feet. “All I know is what we _need_ to do is show that it’s possible, if everyone just tried.”

“Not gonna happen,” Astrid said. “I’ve been telling people to try to make friends with dragons for a while now. Usually they think I’m joking.”

 “Of course they do,” I said. “Humans don’t particularly like to listen to reason.”

“What? What’s going on?” Stormfly cried with fluttering wings. “I wanna be in the loop!”

Hiccup glanced at me and then back at Astrid. “Yeah, just talking doesn’t work. At least, not most of the time.”

“When _does_ it work?” Astrid asked, throwing an annoyed look to the heavens.

With a nervous chuckle, Hiccup said, “Well, actually, Toothless and I just spoke to Dogsbreath a little while ago…”

It took her a moment to process that. “You talked to _Dogsbreath?_ ” She hissed like it had to be a secret. “Why? Does the Chief know? Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Well, it worked,” Hiccup said, although he looked like he didn’t really believe it. “Sort of. He told us we ‘gave him something to think about’.”

“And he didn’t try to kill us,” I added. Stormfly, again, looked between all of us with immense confusion.

“I’m just glad you got out of there in one piece.” Astrid looked genuinely impressed, and I allowed a proud smirk to slide on my face. She thought for a second, then added, “You know, Hiccup, that might be what’s missing: you.”

It was Hiccup’s turn to be taken off-guard. “Uh, you’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all. People keep looking to me for advice—but look what good I do.” She pulled her arm from around her back and displayed it, showing us the mottled bruises running up and down it like dragon scales. “You’re the only one who _really_ knows what’s going on. Maybe…” She bit her lip. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I know you have every reason not to…but it might actually work if you just spend more time in the village. And not on the roofs with the dragons or in the forge, but, you know…around _us_. They’re your people, too.”

Hiccup seemed to expect this, only giving a small, worried frown. “I don’t know, Astrid.” He shrugged and shook his head, eyes flicking away. “Every time we set foot in Berk, something bad happens.”

Astrid met his gaze evenly, but with an almost pitied expression that immediately aggravated me. “So we have to do something about it, then. It’s all because of what you said: humans and dragons aren’t listening to each other, and we’re all acting like we’re on opposite sides. You’re the bridge between them, Hiccup.”

Hiccup reared his head back a little. He shot an uncertain glance towards the human nest.

Astrid’s eyes softened, and in a much less pressing tone, she added, “Stormfly and I will stick around you guys if you don’t feel safe.” She reached out to touch his arm, only to stop and pull her arm back. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Hiccup said, pawing at the air. He hesitated, his eyes lingering on Astrid’s arm—and then he reached out even as he began leaning his body away, almost like he was afraid she would claw him but still wanted to poke the bear anyways.

Astrid froze at first, eyebrows shooting up. Recollecting herself, she extended her paw, letting it hang invitingly in the air.

Hiccup was struggling with it as much as I would, inching his paw closer only to recoil in short little jerks. His eyes were wide, but his jaw set with determination. For a few moments, everything was quiet save for the bright birdsong and hum of summer insects.

Then, as gently as if he were shifting eggs, he put his paw in Astrid’s.

She wrapping her claws around his paw with a small smile. Hiccup nervously returned it and focused, eventually getting his own to do the same, if somewhat awkwardly.

 “See?” Astrid murmured, like if she spoke too loud then Hiccup would frighten away. “Not so bad, right?”

Neither of them moved. Then, scales alarmingly pink, Hiccup let go and held his paws close to his heart while taking not-so-subtle steps closer to me. He ducked his head and gave Astrid a shy look from underneath his fur, trying and failing to hide a grin. “F-for you,” he mumbled.

It occurred to me that this was the first time that Hiccup had ever initiated contact with a Viking by his own choice. I _suppose_ that meant I wouldn’t tease him. For now.

Oh, why not?

“ _Oooh, Hiccup_ like?” I crooned, poking him several times.

Hiccup turned an even brighter shade of pink. “U-uh, _anyways_ , we, uh, we gotta go, Astrid, so, um…”

“Are you looking for the Chief?” She asked. When Hiccup cringed and nodded, she turned and pointed back the way we’d come. “He was down in the village last time I checked. He was actually talking to Gobber before I was sent out to look for you.”

I wanted to groan; both because she had _waited_ to tell us that, and because that meant that we still had to seek the King out and have a _wonderful_ conversation with him.

“Oh, great,” Hiccup mumbled. “Well, I guess that saves us a trip.”

Astrid took in our less-than-enthused reactions with obvious sympathy—none of which was wanted or needed. “Well, want to head back down?”

“ _No_ ,” I sighed.

“We should,” Hiccup said in the same tone.

Stormfly looked between all of us, tail flicking in annoyance and head tipped to the side. “Wait, what?”

**o.O.o**

Upon returning to the smoke-cave, it immediately became apparent that the King wasn’t there. Or “Gobber”. Or anyone.

“Weird,” Astrid said, poking her head in. “They were _just_ here. Although I did see a lot of people going down this road on my way up to your house.”

Hiccup gave me a nervous look, which I returned. Normally we’d both be more than happy at this news, but now that we actually _needed_ to speak with the King, it just prolonged the anxiety of having to speak with someone we didn’t necessarily want to. Not to mention it was extremely odd that Hiccup’s “mentor” wasn’t here—I’d even begun to wonder if he lived in the smoke-cave, he was there so often.

Glancing up at the top of the wood-caves, I noticed a posse of Little-Biters lounging on the top of the smoke-cave to absorb the warmth coming from it. “Hello,” I called, and all of them bolted upright. “Do you know where the King of humans is?”

All of them scrambled to their feet and glided down—save for one. He was the one-winged Little-Biter, and so was forced to carefully step down from outcropping to outcropping. By the time all of his friends had bowed before Hiccup and me, he had just plopped to the ground and scampered over.

“But you’re the King, aren’t you?” He asked Hiccup, who had sat down to get closer to them. Behind him, Astrid was peeking around his shoulder while also trying to pretend she wasn’t paying attention. Stormfly took the opportunity to slip into the smoke-cave to explore and hopefully set things on fire.

“ _Hiccup human King?_ ” I translated. The Little-Biters all blinked up at me with huge eyes, heads tilting this way and that.

“What, me?” Hiccup gave a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“Why are you two talking in different languages?” The one-winged Little-Biter blurted. He stood up and toddled over to Hiccup, leaping brazenly onto his legs and peering up at him with huge eyes. “It’s not even the same one, and I can’t understand either of them!”

“It’s for easy translating,” I explained. “Hic—the King can’t understand us in his human form, remember?”

With drooping wings, the Little-Biters nodded—a few more sheepishly than others.

“I’ve found a way to speak in a humanlike way for him,” I continued. To a perplexed Hiccup, I said, “ _Us speak, dragon confused._ ”

He nodded and hunched down to bump heads with the Little-Biter. “I can imagine. I do think I caught a few words, though.”

“ _Yes?_ ” I yelped. Hiccup shrugged with a small smile, and I pressed my forehead to his, purring, “ _Good good good!_ ”

I pulled away, and the one-winged Little-Biter glanced between us. “It’s so strange…I feel like I can almost understand you,” he twisted to face Hiccup, “but not you. And wait, why aren’t _you_ the human King? Why _wouldn’t_ you be? You’re always so good at things!”

“Yeah, even if you can’t talk!” A small, orange Little-Biter piped up.

“With all respect, my King, I think that you should see an elder medicine-dragon for that,” mused a blue-green one, about the age of a young adult. “I can’t imagine it’s easy, but you seem to be very cool about it. You’re very inspirational, especially because you’re in that form!”

The eldest of them, a yellow Little-Biter a little gray around his muzzle, gave a small gasp and bowed deeply to both Hiccup and myself. “My Kings, I deeply apologize for my kin!” He shot them a narrow-eyed look, and all of them pressed their bellies to the ground submissively and clamped their beaks shut. “They are too young to understand the complexity of this situation.”

“I understand,” I said with a sad smile, wishing that Hiccup could understand how much faith they had in him—the gods knew he needed that hammered into his head. To him, I said, “ _Dragon like Hiccup_. _Them speak Hiccup good human King_. _Confused, why no human King?_ ”

Hiccup grinned, but it was stiff. “I don’t see why it’s such a shocker—it’s not like I’m the first pick for the job.”

He turned to the Little-Biters and bobbed his head. Then he paused, looking uncertain for a moment. He purred in a controlled, steady fashion, rising up and down in pitch and altering the frequency of vibration. It was so unexpected that I tipped my head all the way aside without the slightest clue of what he was attempting.

It was only when Hiccup took in all of our confused reactions and looked away in embarrassment that I realized what he was trying, and how _close_ to success he had been.

“ _Hiccup speak!_ ” I exclaimed, jumping in place in a little dance before composing myself. “Ahem. _Thank you, yes?_ ”

Hiccup brightened up right away, sitting up straighter. “Y-yeah! Did you understand me?”

I was the one to look a little embarrassed this time. “Ah, _no. Need…_ ” I trailed off, not having the word, and instead made my “go on” head gesture at him.

“Need practice?” He asked.

“ _Yes,_ ” I said. Drawing the word out and keeping my tone neutral, I said, “ _Practice._ ”

All of the Little-Biters were looking between us like they were following fish darting through a lake. Eventually, the yellow one mustered up the courage to interrupt, “Is there something you would like us to do, my Kings?”

I shook my head. “No, but thank you. We should probably move on, anyways.” I sniffed the ground and wrinkled my nose at the King’s familiar scent: metal and ash and too close to Hiccup’s scent for comfort. He really _had_ been here awhile ago, but the scent was a little stale—it had been at least half an hour.

To Hiccup, I pointed my nose at the ground and said, “ _Smell King. Us go?_ ”

He clearly would rather spend the rest of the day here with the Little-Biters, but nodded anyways with downcast eyes. “Yeah. Better to do it before I lose my nerve.” He shifted around to sit up, and the Little-Biter stepped off of him. After he’d stood up, he bobbed his head at them.

I did the same and dismissed them, “Thank you for all of your help.”

The Little-Biters each called out a goodbye and bowed one more time. Then they all took off, scampering across the ground to accommodate for the one-winged Little-Biter’s disability.

An odd nostalgia crept up on me as HIccup and I stood there alone. We had lost this, these little moments with our nestmates. Our nestmates had had much less apprehension adapting to life around humans than we had, and as such, we had inadvertently avoided them along with the humans. In a sudden pang, I realized that I had _missed_ them, the closeness and familiarity and family that they provided.

And they had missed us, too.

With a sigh, I flicked my tail and turned to Hiccup. This was just another problem that we needed to fix—but for now, we had to focus on the matter at wing.

I jumped at the sight of Astrid standing right next to him, eyes alight with that same determined look she used to give us back in the cove. She’d always narrowed her eyes like that when she’d made a decision and was certain that she would stick to it.

It was a look that only meant one thing: questions. And quite a bit of them.

_Oh, no._

**o.O.o**

Astrid babbled the whole time how amazing it was that Hiccup could understand me, not quite grasping just how much work there still needed to be done. Hiccup spent much time stammering short answers for her, still uncomfortable despite his previous efforts to get accustomed to her presence. At least Astrid was smart enough not to press him for answers, and did not attempt to touch him—which was much more than what the King could do.

I followed the King’s scent as we walked, tracing a path through Berk that slowly grew more and more familiar. Yet the deeper we went into the nest, the more noticeable it was that there were hardly any humans around. What would have brought me comfort only brought more anxiety; where were the damn humans hiding?

It wasn’t until the King’s scent took us to the edge of the nest that we saw the reason why.

I growled down at the docks, opening my wings and flicking my tail. Without taking my eyes off of them, I nudged Hiccup’s shoulder. He climbed onto my back without any further prompting, which helped ease my worries a little bit.

It seemed like every human on the island was down there, all of them swarming a single floating-tree. It was indistinguishable from the other floating-trees, but if there were that many humans on it, it couldn’t be good. I also took quick notice that very few of our nestmates were on the docks; many were sitting on the cliffsides or on top of wood-caves, peering down uneasily and sending quick glances at Hiccup and me.

I forced myself to look calm in hopes that it would have the same effect on our watching nestmates. All it would take was one more incident, and Hiccup and I would quickly find ourselves wing-deep in trouble.

“Oh, wow!” Astrid said, delighted. “It’s Trader Johann! I’ll bet he’s got a lot of news on what’s going on with the other tribes.”

“Maybe we should try later,” Hiccup said, apprehensive. “I can’t even see Dad down there.”

I could. He was speaking with a human on the floating-tree, “Gobber” at his right. “ _Toothless see King_ ,” I said. “ _No like this._ ”

“Me neither,” Hiccup mumbled.

“What?” Both Astrid and Stormfly asked. The irony of it was almost humorous; both of them asking the same question, confused by the same thing, without even realizing it.

Hiccup shifted a bit. “I think we should wait until there’s less of a crowd.”

“So you want to wait until there’s nearly nobody there?” Astrid asked. When Hiccup didn’t reply, she said, “I think it might be good to go down there now. Most people haven’t seen you since a few days ago, with everything that happened down there. It might be good to show them that you guys aren’t a threat.”

I sent her a glare, to which she looked guilty away.

A flicker of movement caught my eye. I snapped my head towards it and squinted, craning my neck. Something very small and colorful was moving around the floating-trees, so close to the humans that I had not seen it right away. Humming, I leaned forward and opened my wings a bit.

“Toothless?” Hiccup asked.

“ _See…_ ” I trailed off.

Adrenaline burst through my chest.

“ _Fledgling!_ ”

A ridiculously-long session of charades had resulted in Hiccup learning this word—and also that the fledglings, apparently, spent their time at the docks. We had been meaning to give them a firm talking-to, but had been caught up with other problems, like devising a plan to soothe the tensions between us and the humans.

Suddenly I regretted our inaction. We were Kings, too. Yet we had neglected the safety of our own nestmates by getting too caught up in other circumstances.

In response to my warning, Hiccup stiffened with a low growl. I opened my wings as my brother braced himself, tightening his claws around my shoulder blades and making himself small against my back.

Astrid had only just cried out in alarm when I launched myself off the cliff, tucked my wings in, and let us fall.

The insides-out feeling of freefall was glorious and sweet, like taking a drink of fresh water after hours of flying over an endless sea. The wind, sharp and crisp, raced past us and roared in our ears. It brought with it a kind of bright excitement that I had come to mourn, and all too quickly the docks sprung up to meet us.

I snapped my wings and base-fins out and pulled my body up, and immediately the air transformed into a tangible thing, no longer soft and inviting but rushing against me with such a strong force that my wingtips and shoulders began to burn. I made sure to keep my tail in-line with my body and my remaining tailtip-fin closed, all in an effort to keep the air speeding under me even. That meant sacrificing a significant amount of maneuverability; my body rocked back and forth with the different air currents coming off the ocean and bouncing off of the cliffside, and it was all I could do not to teeter over and send us both plummeting into the crashing ocean below.

With quite a bit of force and praying, we made it to the docks—barely. It was more like an accelerated, controlled crash rather than a landing, and we missed falling straight into the ocean by a single winglength. My feet landed unevenly, forcing me to dig my claws in and skid several meters before we came to a gut-lurching stop.

The humans ceased their activities. The wind blew, the gulls called, and the ocean sprayed against the cliffsides.

In the empty silence, Hiccup let out an overjoyed, breathless laugh. Gasping for air, I looked over my shoulder at him with wide eyes.

It had been a long time since I’d heard that.

“We should do that more often,” Hiccup panted with a playful tug at my ear.

“ _Yes?_ ” I said with a grin.

Still chuckling a bit, I turned around to face the area I had last seen the fledglings—and was met with the dumbfounded stares of at least three dozen humans. The fledglings were perched on the floating-trees and hovering just at the humans’ heads, and quickly darted out of view once they’d seen that I’d found them.

“Fledglings!” I said sharply, lifting my head and putting on my “Kingly voice”. I didn’t call again, and instead looked expectantly into the crowd as the silence stretched on and on.

One by one, the fledglings crept out from beneath the feet of the humans, heads and bellies low but a mischievous light in their eyes. Eventually, a group of about ten or so had made their way out of the crowd and stood before Hiccup and me. Quite a few were clutching something in their teeth or claws. I narrowed my eyes.

“Where did you find those?” I asked, eyeing the objects. Some were completely random and seemed to have no functional purpose, and some were things I recognized, like paper.

They all looked at each other, seeing who would fib first.

For a moment, I was tempted to let them get away with it, just out of spite. The memory of Astrid’s wound sprang to my mind, along with the very real and dangerous anger the humans had expressed that day. Humans were _extraordinarily_ possessive of their things, and I had a feeling that the fledglings had just given us a good opportunity.

“Leave those here, and return to the rest of our nestmates,” I said.

“B-but _Kings!_ ” A young Two-Head whined. “It took so _long_ to get these!” She held up something made of dead furs that was very aesthetically unpleasing to the eye.

A Flame-Skin the size of a Little-Biter piped up, “And some humans _gave_ them to us! This isn’t fair!” He snorted and his scales smoldered with embers.

“You’re not my mother!” A Two-Walker noticed.

I grinned. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Every single one of them let out the same over-exaggerated moan and fell dramatically onto the deck. They had likely heard that very sentence every day, just as I had when I was their age. Hiccup jumped in surprise, snickered, and then tried to hide it behind a cough.

Without any proper counter-argument, each fledgling set their object down and sulked away, occasionally peeking at me to see if I noticed them trying to give me the cold shoulder. They waited until the last one had reluctantly set down her paper, and then all of them fluttered into the air towards Berk.

“Crisis averted!” I said, puffing my chest up. “Now, let’s just leave…”

“Hiccup! There you are!”

“…or have some more family bonding.” I dropped my head and wings and then slowly turned back towards the humans.

The crowd had parted for the King, who took in the stolen objects with confusion. He met my eyes and then looked slightly above me at Hiccup. “Did you come here to help with this?” He asked, gesturing at the objects.

“Sure, why not?” I said, nodding once.

Hiccup wasn’t as skilled of a liar, shrinking closer to me. “Um…sort of…?”

The King gave a strained smile. “Well, thank you. Those dragons were starting to go for things of actual value.” He stooped down to pick up the objects, then took a few steps closer—but he noticeably kept his distance. “I’ve been looking for you since early this morning—I received a messenger pigeon from Trader Johann about his arrival. He’s just anchored and started to get his supplies out, and then those little dragons swooped in.”

Hiccup was very still. “Yeah…we’re, uh, sorry about that. They’re just fledglings.” He paused, and in a tense voice, he asked, “Dad, could we…could we talk to you?”

The King’s eyes widened, and for a moment his mouth moved up and down. “Of course.” Lowering his voice a little, he said, “I’ve been wanting to speak with you as well, Hiccup. I figured a few days to cool down would do some good. Let me just finish some arrangements with Trader Johann, and we can leave.”

Hiccup must have nodded, because he turned back towards the crowd. At precisely the same moment, an odd-looking human with a unique scent stumbled forward, nearly tripped, and then straightened up while brushing himself off. He whipped his head around until his eyes settled on the King.

“There they are!” He laughed, grabbing the objects from the King. “Here I was, thinking the dragons took ‘em away forever! And I have you two to thank, yes?” He directed the question at me and Hiccup. Without waiting for a response, he went on merrily, “Well, I must say, that was quite the entrance! I’m very pleased to formally meet you two—well I’ve met you, Hiccup, but not this majestic beauty of the skies here!” He walked right up to me and crouched down to my eye level. “It’s true that this dragon can understand our language, is it not?”

“Majestic beauty of the skies”? Well, that was...new. Maybe this human was actually worth talking to.

After making sure to send a smirk at Hiccup—to which he rolled his eyes at—I turned to the human and gave him a nod. Now my curiosity was piqued; who was this stranger, and why was he so... _nice_ to us?

“Wonderful!” The human cried. “Then you’ll surely be of help with the problem I’ve been seeing in the north! Well there’s been lots of problems in the north—I’ve lost quite a bit of trade up there recently, actually. I say, those islands up there certainly are stingy when it comes to my wares...there’s quite a large amassment of people, and yet they turn their noses up to my fine boutique!”

“Trader Johann, perhaps we should speak in _private_ ,” the King warned him, sending an obvious look to the crowd around us.

I frowned as I took in the King’s tense posture and hard eyes. What was the problem? This human was running his mouth, yes, but other than that...

“No, no!” The human said, flapping a paw and dropping some of his “precious” objects in the process. He focused back on me. “I need to speak with the dragon!”

Hiccup gave a soft sigh. I twisted my neck to look at him. His eyes were half-lidded and his shoulders drooped, eyes fixed on his paws—his human paws. He noticed me looking and shook it off, pretending to look “normal” and doing a poor job of it.

“Trader Johann,” the King tried once more.

The human scooted even closer to me, eager and brazen and arrogant, his eyes alight and his body nearly bouncing with excitement.

He was _far_ too close for comfort, so close I could smell his breath. My stomach turned, and Hiccup shrunk away.

 “Tell me, dragon,” the human said. “What is to be done about the raids in the north?”

There was a fragile moment where nobody said anything.

Raids.

I had no words. Was she…was the Queen still alive?

“…raids?” Hiccup whispered, horrified.

The human snapped his head up to look at Hiccup. “And look at you! Once a dragon, now riding one, and without a saddle at that! Although I see you didn’t come out of it unscathed,” he mused, looking at my left side where Hiccup’s fake leg was. With quite a bit of peppiness, he exclaimed, “Well look at the bright side—at least you’re back to normal!”

I was so caught up in my own stunned confusion that it took me several moments to process what the human had said.

All of it came together—and just like that, he was no longer worth talking to.

I bristled, baring my teeth. How dare this human say such brash and cruel things, and to _Kings?_ Stretched tensions or not, I would not stand by and allow this complete stranger to blow fire at the suffering Hiccup and I had endured, as if it were something trivial enough to be gossiped about.

Hiccup’s claws tightened around my neck, and I turned around and did a double-take at the glare he was searing into the human. His teeth were bared, his nose and forehead wrinkled and casting shadows across his face, his eyes narrowed to slits.

Despite his human body, he certainly _looked_ like one pissed-off Shadow-Blender.

With visible effort, Hiccup forced himself to calm down, now with a noticeable amount of guilt. I didn’t bother holding back, turning back to the startled human with as nasty a look as I could manage.

The King interrupted before any more words could be said. He grabbed the human by his arm and growled, “We will speak in _private._ Understood?”

The stranger flicked his eyes between us and the King and then nodded several times. “O-of course, I’ll just place these back on my ship—“

“ _Now._ ” Without waiting for a reply, he spun around and marched back towards Berk. The human followed him, cringing. Another human broke off from the crowd to come along—Hiccup’s mentor, “Gobber”.

Hiccup and I shadowed the three of them without saying a word, and the human crowd began talking among themselves. It was not the usual kind of muttering we had grown accustomed to, but something worse, something that made me want to take off and flee into the safety of the forest. It was dark and somber, filled with the underlying panic of waiting for an expected attack. In just one instant, the news of raids had changed their entire outlook on the dragons that lived here on Berk.

They were, truly and deeply, afraid.

Afraid of us.

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

_Keep it together. Keep it together._

Shadows buzzed through my head. My phantom tail thrashed as invisible wings lifted in preparation of flight. Taking a deep breath, I pressed my forehead against the back of Toothless’ head and focused on him to re-center myself.

The trek up to Berk was horribly silent, just like the Queen’s flares used to be. Even Gobber was uncharacteristically quiet. Halfway up, we passed Astrid and Stormfly, whom had been making their way down after we’d ditched them on the clifftop.

Astrid met my gaze, eyes huge and concerned. I shook my head at her. She did not follow.

I almost wanted her to ignore me and come with us anyways, especially after all she had done to help. Yet there was still that lurking uncertainty, there was still that axe that she kept at her hip, there was still that wound that made my head cloud with unwelcome memories... and there was still that open and inviting hand that grasped onto mine and remarkably did not bring pain.

It was better that she stayed behind. Dealing with Dad was confusing enough on a good day.

Dad stomped into the first open building he saw—Town Hall. Trader Johann chatted away, apologizing and changing the subject and trying to assuage us all at once. Toothless hesitated at the open door and dark room, but then padded in with a small shudder. I purred to him, and he relaxed a little.

Once we were all inside and the door was shut, Dad stopped and faced Trader Johann. “Raids? In the north?”

Trader Johann gave a nervous laugh. “Well, yes, sort of.”

“Sorta’?” Gobber repeated. “The dragons attacked or they didn’t. Which is it?”

“Well, it’s quite extraordinary!” Johann said. “I haven’t been lucky enough to document one myself, but across the northern islands there _have_ been reports of raids. _Huge_ groups of dragons flying overhead for up to an hour on end!”

“ _Confused_ ,” Toothless murmured. “ _Nest no fight? No enemy?_ ”

“So…they _weren’t_ raids?” I asked for him, brows scrunching together. “They weren’t attacking?”

“That’s the odd part!” Trader Johann said. “I’ve heard of cases where sometimes they _do_ descend on villages, but they don’t steal anything. They just knock things over and set fire to the buildings—causing quite a bit of damage, I might add—and then either leave or get chased off.” He looked to Toothless and asked, “Can you explain this, dragon?”

The words were like a knife to my heart. I took a deep breath, scolding myself for getting so defensive.

Toothless made a big show of not acknowledging him, somehow even more upset about what Trader Johann had said than I was. Trader Johann waited patiently, as eager as a little kid on the eve of Snoggletog.

“What else can you tell us about these raids?” Dad asked. “Where exactly are they? For how long have they been happening? Have there been any injuries, or stealing?”

The traveling merchant reached to his belt and produced some paper, unraveling it to reveal a well-drawn map of the archipelago. Berk was in the southeast, and I could pinpoint exactly where the Queen’s nest had been north of it—although it was still not marked on the map, still hidden away and shrouded in shadows.

“I first heard reports here,” he pointed to an island far northwest of Berk. “And by traveling south and compiling witness reports, I’ve discovered something quite strange. Each island south of here has reported their raids at different times. The more south, the later each raid. The range is also much broader as the raids travel south, affecting more and more islands. So while this one was relatively unscathed when I stopped by,” he pointed at an island directly west of the first one, “all of _these_ islands had reported dragon raids within roughly the same time period about a week later.” He traced a long line of islands about a day’s worth of sailing south from the first affected island.

“And the injuries?” Dad asked. “Were they as bad as they used to be?”

He didn’t look at me, but I still shrunk against Toothless anyways.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, it’s been pretty typical,” Trader Johann said. “If you attack a dragon, it’ll attack you right back. But I’m sure you already know that! However, I’ve yet to hear of any catastrophic damage like in the past year, and there’s been almost no reports of stealing.”

Dad and Gobber shared a look. I tightened my grip on Toothless.

They were organized, moving from a set point and fanning out as they went. They weren’t going out of their way to steal or attack people, apparently.

“ _Why?_ ” Toothless said, fluttering his wings—he was unnerved.

For the first time, Dad turned to me. He hesitated, and then asked, “Hiccup? Do you…know anything?”

I met his uncertain, nervous gaze, and forced myself from looking away out of guilt. “No,” I said. “I’ve never heard of something like it. Even the Queen didn’t do that. She just…sent us to random islands.”

Dad didn’t look too happy with that answer, but nodded anyways. “Then…we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Right?”

To his left, Gobber’s eyebrows shot up.

I tilted my head a little to the side. Then, awkwardly, “R-right.”

“Well, actually…” Trader Johann grimaced when everyone turned back to him. He’d brought out another piece of paper and was wringing it in his hands nervously. “There’s a… _sliiight_ problem. You see, well, this is only what I’ve heard, _especially_ from all of those northerners gathered up there, and it’s by no means _my_ opinion, but—“

“Get on with it!” Gobber snapped.

Trader Johann faced me. “Many tribes think that the dragon raids have something to do with you.”

I felt the color drain from my face. Toothless’ breath hitched.

“But I’m not—we’re not even _there_ ,” I said. “We can’t fly anymore!”

“Well, it does make sense considering nobody knows you’ve been cured,” Trader Johann said with a casual shrug.

Ice plunged into my heart. I barely contained a small growl from rising in my throat and struggled to push my anger aside, only becoming all the more upset at myself for getting so irrationally upset _again_. Toothless, on the other hand, hissed a long curse at him.

Trader Johann grimaced. “Ah, m-my apologies! In my own defense, I myself didn’t even know you were on Berk until you two made your grand entrance! But yes, the people who _did_ believe the rumors of your transformation still think you’re flying around with ‘em.”

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so all I did was shake my head. I sent my father a wide-eyed look. Both Dad and Gobber were strikingly pale, but still kept their composure far better than I was.

“And that?” Dad asked, pointing. “A message from a tribe?”

“Yes—the Bog Burglars, I do believe. _They_ didn’t trade much with me, either.” Trader Johann handed it to Dad, and then peeked at the paper as my father unraveled it. “I actually am fairly uncertain of what its contents are—I’m snoopy, but not that snoopy!” He laughed and then fell silent when nobody else joined in with him.

I almost didn’t want to say anything, but still managed to ask, “What—what’s it say?”

Dad handed the note to Gobber. After a few seconds, Gobber scoffed and crumpled the paper in his hands. “Empty threats based on empty lies,” Dad said. “Don’t worry, Hiccup.”

“ _What?_ ” Toothless hissed, whipping his tail and fluttering his wings. “ _Human nest danger? Need speak!_ ”

“Are they planning on attacking us?” I translated.

Dad shared a look with Gobber, who gave a helpless shrug. He sighed. “You have enough weighing down on your mind already, Hiccup. As it is now, there’s nothing to worry about based on one note.”

I slumped backwards. If they weren’t a problem, he would have just told me. “So they threatened us.”

Toothless grumbled something that I didn’t understand, throwing his head.

Dad studied me, conflicted. Gobber let out a huge sigh.

“I mean, he’s goin’ to find out _eventually_ ,” he said. “Everyone is, no thanks to _you_.” He squared a look at Trader Johann.

“Ehehehe,” Trader Johann laughed unsteadily. “Ah, don’t hurt the messenger?”

Dad spared a moment to shoot him a look and then faced us. “The Bog Burglars are another tribe a day or so’s travels northwest of here,” he first said to Toothless. To me, “They came to us for aid when you were…being controlled.” He paused a second, looking uncertain of if he should elaborate.

Still, he went on, “…At the time, they blamed you and threatened us, but nothing came of it. They are doing the same now: they are experiencing unusual dragon raids and blaming you and Berk for them. They have written that we should ‘clean up the mess we started’.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. That was a blatant threat.

“Bah!” Gobber spat on the ground. “A load of Gronckle dung, that is. What do they expect, that we march up to the dragons and tell ‘em to stop doin’ that?”

“I don’t know,” Dad said. “But we must discuss this at the council. Most of Berk has probably heard by now, and I’m certain that this news will only cause more fights.”

“Aye,” Gobber said. Without any further prompting, he turned and hobbled off towards the upper room of Town Hall where the bell was.

With nothing more to say, a heavy silence loomed over us. My mind whirled like I was caught in a storm, my wings filling with unpredictable and sharp winds sending me sailing to and fro.

Organized dragon raids, moving from north to south, sometimes flying overhead and sometimes descending onto islands. They were traveling through the archipelago relatively fast— _too_ fast—and Berk was directly in their path. It wasn’t a matter of “if”, but “when”.

At this rate, we would never fix things on Berk in time. People would still be afraid of dragons, and dragons would still be afraid of people. There was a chance that many of our nestmates would die, struck down by villagers assuming that they were participating in the raids. And once that happened—once that first dragon fell…

What were we going to do when they reached us?

_RING! RING! RING! RING!_

I twisted around to face the opening doors of Town Hall, which was already filling with confused and frightened villagers. As I did so, my eyes caught sight of Toothless’ tail—and the empty space where his tailfin used to be. My stomach clenched.

If the dragons only flew overhead, they would never see us or hear us shouting at them from below and we would never find out what they were doing. In battle, we would be sitting ducks, grounded and slow and wide open to rains of fire.

Somehow, I felt even less safe than I normally did.

What _could_ we do, when we couldn’t fly?


	5. Chapter 5

 

Astrid

“Stay here, Stormfly.”

Stormfly tipped her head to the side. I held my hands up and tried to back into the open door of Town Hall, and she chirped and began to follow me.

“No, Stormfly. Stay!” I tried again.

The crowd was parting around us. Many people inside the building were watching us with suspicious eyes. I risked a glance in and saw the Chief, Trader Johann, and Hiccup and Toothless all standing near the front of the round table. The giant dragon statue attached to the ceiling hovered over them, like it had been diving to attack them and frozen at the last second.

Stormfly leaned over and twisted her head, peering into Town Hall. She blinked and then stomped her foot and squawked at me.

“You have to stay here,” I said, trying and failing to push her backwards. “You can’t go inside. Stay, Stormfly!”

Stormfly rumbled and fluttered her wings, not moving back but also not moving forward. I put my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes up at her, and she returned the look without a second of hesitation.

I hadn’t heard what had happened until after the Chief, Hiccup, and Toothless had returned to Berk. Once they had gone, a strange sort of anxiety had erupted among the docks. People were scared, talking about weapons and dragons and other tribes. It was only when the bell had begun ringing and the villagers began swarming up towards Town Hall that I had managed to pull someone aside and get a story out of them.

If there was any time that Stormfly needed to be away from a crowd of Vikings, then this was it.

Especially considering that people were yelling.

I looked up and readied myself. Stormfly perked up too, raising her neck and turning around.

At that very same moment, a Monstrous Nightmare popped its head over the crowd, spotted us, and began making a beeline for us. The crowd scrambled out of his way—and suddenly the shouting made a lot more sense. I grabbed my arm on impulse even as I realized that I recognized him.

As Stormfly and Hookfang greeted each other, I turned around and raised an eyebrow at Snotlout. He was wheezing from the effort of chasing after his dragon, bending over on his knees and shaking from the effort.

“Why did you bring him here?” I asked. “Not exactly the best time.”

“Funny you’d say that!” Snotlout gasped out, pointing at Stormfly. “Besides, Hookie and I are like _,_ uh, a power team.” He straightened up and added casually, “And also, he kinda won’t stop following me around.”

“I know that feeling,” I said, glancing at my own dragon. “Stormfly wants to follow me inside for some reason, but I really think that’s a bad idea.”

“You gotta show her who’s boss!” Snotlout said. “Step aside, and your old friend Snotlout’ll show you how it’s done.” He made an over-dramatic show of cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders. Then he turned towards our dragons, who were currently prancing around in a circle and snipping at each other. “HOOKFANG! GET OVER HERE!”

Hookfang nearly jumped his full height into the air, landed in a perfect arch, and whipped his neck around to look at Snotlout. Stormfly bristled, flicking her eyes between me and her friend. She squawked, and Hookfang snapped back to attention and went right back to playfighting with her.

“I can really tell you’re the boss,” I said, crossing my arms. A small, selfish part of me was relieved that I wasn’t the only one having problems with my dragon. A much bigger part of me was extremely worried.

Snotlout huffed and waved his hand. “Well, yeah, you gotta let them _think_ that they’re the boss. _Obviously._ ”

“Obviously. Anyways, back to the point—you do know what’s going on, right?”

“Not really!” Snotlout cried, throwing his arms up in irritation. “I was getting some much-needed beauty rest when the bell started ringing, and when I went outside, everyone was already here!”

I guess that explained why he wasn’t throwing a fit about the situation. “Trader Johann docked this morning,” I explained. “Apparently there’s, uh, raids. In the north.”

Snotlout froze, his eyes bugging out and his skin paling. “But…Hiccup said that the raids would stop after we killed that Queen dragon.”

I shrugged, fighting off my own doubts about the situation. I would never think Hiccup was lying…but he could just be plain _wrong._ “We’ll find out more information soon enough—that’s why everyone’s here. Right now, I’m just trying to get inside without Stormfly following me.”

“Y-yeah, I bet Hookfang’ll try to follow me in, too,” Snotlout said, his voice lacking the bravado from before.

Our dragons were bobbing their heads and darting around each other, flaring wings and spines and chirping. Neither of them were paying much attention to us or the dwindling crowd inching around them.

Snotlout and I glanced at each other. A second passed, and we shot off into Town Hall, darting in and out of their sight as fast as we could. There were no loud shrieks of complaint, so hopefully that meant Stormfly and Hookfang hadn’t noticed.

“Do you know where the others are?” Snotlout asked as we shoved our way towards the front.

“No—they might still be on their way here.”

“Oh, great,” Snotlout said. “Well, this is awesome! What’re we gonna do? Are we gonna get attacked? I mean, Hookie doesn’t listen and all, but I don’t want him getting hurt or locked up!”

An image of Stormfly chained up in the Kill Ring and used as a training tool again popped into my head. I cringed.

“It’s not gonna happen,” I said, even though I knew it was just a lie to make myself feel better. If I let myself get consumed with doubts and worries, they’d be much more likely to happen. So we had to keep pushing back, no matter what.

We did just that and made it to the front, giving us a good view of the Chief, Gobber, Trader Johann, and Hiccup and Toothless.

“They sure look confident,” Snotlout complained. “I bet we’re doomed. I _knew_ things couldn’t get back to normal!”

I almost rolled my eyes at him, biting back a snide comment asking him when he’d changed his mind. Instead, I focused on the Chief’s group, trying to see if I could gauge the severity of the situation from them.

Hiccup was sitting atop Toothless’ back, shoulders hunched and jaw clenched. He was staring off into space, eyes distant. Toothless was flicking his eyes around the room, pupils slit, wings half-open, and ears pinned.

The Night Fury caught my eye and paused. I waved and then flinched when pain shot up through my arm—gods, I had to stop forgetting about that.

Toothless narrowed his eyes and shook his head like he’d been sprayed with water. Even I could tell that he was _not_ happy.

The Chief said something to Hiccup. There was a moment, and then his son snapped to attention and nodded. Gobber rolled his shoulders in a huge shrug and stepped up to the roundtable. He took a moment to glance around.

“Alright!” He boomed. “Is that everyone?”

Lots of talking—and “no”s—filled the room.

“Welp, they’ll get here eventually,” Gobber drawled. “This is gonna be real quick, so all of ya keep yer mouths shut until we’re done. I’m lookin’ at _you_ —yes, you!” He pointed with his hook. I followed it and grimaced.

He was speaking to Dogsbreath.

Even though he’d been singled out as a troublemaker, Dogsbreath merely glared and crossed his arms. He held strong and proud even as some people began whispering about him.

“Ouch, that’s gotta hurt,” Snotlout snickered. “Serves ‘em right for freaking out on Hiccup awhile ago.”

“Shh!”

The Chief had stepped up, his jaw set and his eyes hard and focused. He waited until everyone’s attention was focused on him before he began to speak.

“Trader Johann has arrived with foreboding news,” he announced. “There seem to be incredibly large dragon raids in the north, but they are not the severe and bloodthirsty raids that were seen in the other islands. The dragons seem to be only flying overhead, and apparently are not stealing if they descend.”

There was a small uptake at this. I glanced at a very confused Snotlout. If the dragons weren’t attacking or stealing, then were they really raiding?

“These raids are moving south, which places Berk in their path. But we all need to be reminded that these are _rumors_ —Trader Johann has not personally witnessed one of these strange raids, and we do not know if they will even come to Berk.” He took a moment to send a firm, commanding stare through the crowd. “I expect all of you to continue to treat the dragons here with respect. Do not attack them based on mere rumors, unless you want Berk to fall back into war again.”

He let that sink in.

“That is all there is to report.”

Hiccup shot his father a surprised look. Toothless shifted in place and lifted his head to look far behind me. He threw his head once, flicking an ear.

“So what are we gonna do?” Someone called out. “We can’t just sit around and do nothin’!”

“What if the dragons here join ‘em?” A woman added—the butcher from the other day, I realized.

I almost groaned. I guess it was stupid to expect everyone to take that all in and casually go on with their day.

The Chief began to speak, stopped himself, and looked at Hiccup. In a low voice, he murmured something to his son.

Hiccup took a deep breath, closing his eyes. It felt like ages had passed before he climbed off of Toothless. He wobbled on his feet and made his way to the front. Toothless leaned into him so much that it almost looked like _Hiccup_ was the one holding him up. His eyes were wide and he was clutching his arms to himself, but he still cleared his throat and made an attempt at straightening himself up.

Silence and stares leapt up to meet him, the air almost solid with tension and confusion. This would be the first time he’d spoken to the village since he’d recovered. That had been the only time that he had explained everything that had happened with the Queen dragon, leaving a lot of unanswered questions in his wake. Yet in the following weeks, he’d grown so distant from Berk that his mere presence was enough to make people pay close attention.

Because if _Hiccup_ was here, then that meant that it was serious.

The volume he put behind his voice—even if it was shaking—came as a shock. “Our nestmates won’t attack you—they won’t attack _us_ ,” he corrected himself. “If it comes down to it, they’ll protect our home, just like all of you will. We have to listen to each other, not panic and turn on each other.”

“ _Listen?_ Do you call dragons doing whatever they want _listening?_ ” The butcher Viking demanded.

Hiccup sighed. “It’s been hard—trust me, I know. But we can’t keep living like we used to. From now on, Toothless and I are going to stay in Berk more to try and help mediate problems. A-and in the meantime…” He held out his hands and pleaded, “You all need to remember that our nestmates aren’t doing these things to be aggressive. Sometimes they _are_ in the wrong. But that doesn’t mean you can just attack them whenever you get mad at them.”

“So ya want us to sit by and do nothin’? I had one break into my shop and steal my goods just a few days ago!” She hissed back.

Toothless glared and pulled his tail around Hiccup. Hiccup shuffled on his feet, grimacing and digging his fingers into his arms. “I’m really sorry about that. For what it’s worth, we did let that Flame—that Nightmare know that what he did was not okay. Many of the dragons in our nest don’t understand Norse.”

This caused a bit of an upstir. While true, probably not the best point to be making at the moment—especially because it was an excuse.

“We’re getting far from the subject,” the Chief interrupted before it could go anymore downhill from there. “The point is, the dragons won’t fight against us. Right, Hiccup?”

He slumped, but nodded anyways.

“But they’ll fight for _them_ first!” Someone else cried. “Look at what happened to Astrid!”

My heart skipped at the direct mentioning of my name—and what exactly the villager was implying.

I imagined, again, Stormfly locked up in a cage.

“That’s not it at all!” I shouted—and immediately clammed up when everyone in the room turned to look at me. Neither the Chief nor Hiccup spoke up to interrupt me, so I stepped forward and stood up on the roundtable.

“A lot of you keep asking me for help with the dragons. But _this_ is what happens when you don’t get what’s going on.” I brandished my gruesome, wounded arm high for all of them to see. “If we want things to be better between Vikings and dragons, we need to listen to Hiccup, because he’s the only one here who knows both sides. So if Hiccup says we have to work together, that’s what I’m gonna do. And honestly, it’s not that hard! I’ve spent a long time with Stormfly, my Nadder, and I would even call her my friend.”

“Yeah!” Snotlout piped up, not one to be left out of the limelight. “And Hookfang’s great, too! He’s the best out of all of them! He’d protect my house _so_ hard!”

“Oh! Oh! And Meatlug’s amazing—I’ve learned so much from her!” Came a distant cry from the far back.

I scanned the crowd and tried not to look disheartened that nobody looked too convinced. A stupid plan flashed through my thoughts. My heart hammered, and I spent a quick moment weighing the pros and cons of it.

“And, look,” I said. “The dragons _do_ listen to you if you make friends with them.” Glancing up at the half-open doors to Town Hall, I easily spotted Stormfly peeking through. She was accompanied by Hookfang, Meatlug, and even Barf and Belch. All of them were poking their noses in but keeping their distance—they must have been what had caught Toothless’ attention earlier.

“Stormfly, come!” I shouted.

My voice echoed several times in the silent Town Hall.

Stormfly at first seemed not to understand, tipping her head to the side and staring past me. All I could hear was my heart racing in my ears as the seconds stretched on, and I became more and more convinced that she would accidentally call my bluff.

With a sharp chirp and fluttering of her wings, Stormfly burst through the doors and padded right in. Everyone she came close to drew away as if she would lunge at them. She didn’t even stop to investigate anyone or wander off—she kept her sights on me and didn’t stop. Because I was standing on the table, we stood eye-to-eye when she came to a stop.

“Thanks, girl,” I whispered to her, reaching a hand out and petting her forehead. She threw her head into it enthusiastically, and then opened her jaw wide and licked my face. “Ugh, nevermind.”

At first, everyone was too shocked to say anything—many of them had likely never seen a dragon _listen_ to a direct command before. Sure, I would call Stormfly to me from time to time, but more often than not, villagers were more focused on her than me when that happened.

“Well, then, if I may have the _honors_ of speaking...”

Dogsbreath stepped from the crowd and into the bubble of space around Stormfly and me. He narrowed his eyes at my wound and crossed his arms.

“If we are in any danger—even if you _say_ that we may not be,” he stared at the Chief as he spoke this, “then I say that we do whatever we can to protect our village. If the dragons won’t fight _against_ us, then we should make sure they fight _with_ us.”

“Aye,” the Chief said. “The dragons here are not our enemies.”

Dogsbreath nodded and turned to me. “So, how do we get ‘em to listen to us?”

A soft voice interrupted, “ _You_ have to listen, too.”

Hiccup glanced at his father and stepped away from the roundtable, making his way around towards us. Toothless walked at his side with his head held high, acting as a shield between him and the crowd. When they made it to us, his eyes were focused and his face was pale.

Stormfly squeaked and bowed low to him and Toothless. Toothless rumbled something in a low tone, so hushed that I barely heard him even though he was right there. Stormfly replied just as quietly.

Hiccup faced Dogsbreath. He met his hard gaze and offered him an unsteady hand.

Dogsbreath’s cool demeanor broke. He recoiled and blinked down at Hiccup, and the moment stretched out so long that I thought he was refusing just out of spite.

Hiccup and Toothless waited, tense and alert.

With a grunt, Dogsbreath stepped closer to them, making a show of not taking Hiccup’s hand.

Despite the danger he clearly felt, Hiccup gave a small smile at this. He motioned at Stormfly, and at the same time, Toothless hummed at her.

She shook herself off, bobbed her head once, and craned her neck towards them. Hiccup twisted and, again, raised a shaking palm to Dogbreath.

Now that he knew what was going on, Dogsbreath seemed a lot less confident in his own words. He rocked on his heels, only to straighten up and try to make himself look relaxed. He all but threw his arm out at Hiccup, nearly smacking him in his haste to look casual.

Hiccup clumsily grasped at Dogsbreath’s hand, just barely touching him, and pulled him towards Stormfly. She nosed Hiccup and stretched her head close to Dogsbreath’s palm—only to stop just before making contact.

All three of them waited to see what Dogsbreath would do. He still tried to look cool and collected, but his expression betrayed him; he was surprised, and maybe even a little afraid. I had no doubt in my mind that he remembered that Stormfly was the dragon who had attacked him to protect Hiccup. I also had no doubt in my mind that he could hold a grudge.

Yet Dogsbreath was stubborn, and if anything, he didn’t like to be proven wrong—especially by himself.

He placed his hand on Stormfly’s nose. Hiccup backed away from him with an audible sigh of relief.

“S-see?” He breathed, breaking the stunned, heavy silence that had swept over us all. Holding his arms close to his heart, he looked at me with a small, nervous smile. “Not so bad, right?”

This seemed to break the spell he had put over the crowd; conversations sprung up everywhere. Dogsbreath kept his hand on my dragon, even as she closed her eyes, purred, and pushed against him. He pulled away and stepped back, staring down at his hand like he expected it to be a different color.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and jumped down from the roundtable. Stormfly let out a complaining cry at not being petted anymore. The chatter around us began to rise.

Despite everything, I couldn’t keep a huge smile from my face. For some reason, seeing Hiccup interacting with people—even if he was clearly freaked out and on-edge—made me feel hopeful. It was better than nothing, and it was _loads_ better than that exhausted, distant person he had been a few days ago. He needed _something_ , and maybe this was it.

For his sake, I hoped it was.

In the sudden disorder, a little girl burst forward. “I wanna pet the dragon!” She shrieked, running right up to Stormfly. My dragon jerked away, startled.

“Wait—!” Hiccup started. Toothless swung his tail around and blocked her with it, ears pinned against his head.

Stormfly had already noticed her extended hands, though. With a happy chirp, she craned her neck over Toothless and nosed the little girl, wiggling her rump in excitement and purring as loud as she could.

This, apparently, was the break in the dam. Everyone decided to say their opinion all at the same time, and in just a few seconds, it became so loud that the only way to hear anything was to shout. It was too difficult to read the crowd; some people seemed anxious, others excited, some speaking of pets and gossiping about Dogsbreath, and others worrying or anticipating a deadly raid. The girl’s mother sprung forward and chased her in circles around a now-overexcited Stormfly. By the time I’d glanced back over at Hiccup, Dogsbreath had slipped away into the crowd.

Hiccup and Toothless were pressed close to each other and peering around the room. Despite this, Hiccup seemed a little more relaxed than before—he still looked tense, but he wasn’t shaking, so I hoped that was a good sign.

All of the sudden, they both twisted around and focused on something behind me. I turned around just in time to see the Chief approaching.

“Well done, both of you,” he said over the uproar. “Nothin’ else can be said at this point—not that we need to. I think we’ve driven the point in well enough.”

I brightened at the praise and straightened my back. “T-thanks, Chief!” A bit more sheepishly, I added, “I’m sorry about interrupting.”

“I’m glad you did,” Hiccup said, although I could barely hear him. “Thanks for the help, Astrid.”

Toothless chose this as a good time to interrupt, butting Hiccup and then throwing his head towards the door. He seemed to say something that I couldn’t hear, because Hiccup leaned in and tilted his head to the side to listen.

“You’re right,” I barely heard him say. He glanced over at the Chief and me. “We need to tell our nestmates, too—they’re probably really confused by now.”

The Chief seemed disappointed, but nodded anyways. “Good plan. I’ll finish up affairs with Johann, and then I will see you tonight, right?”

Hiccup and Toothless shared a look. “R-right,” Hiccup said.

The Chief nodded to dismiss them. By the time I’d started to say something, Hiccup had already leapt onto Toothless’ back, and they were gone.

**o.O.o**

Toothless

Oh, thank the Dragon of the Sun and the Dragoness of the Moon and all of the gods beneath Them.

Our nestmates, of course, were far more understanding than the humans. All it took was a quick announcement: another nest has been spotted moving in a flare-like formation from north to south, and we should be on our guard for their arrival. While alarming and strange, the news was taken with much more grace than the Vikings; not a single threat was made, nor talk of fighting the humans. There was nothing we _could_ do but brace ourselves.

I could grudgingly admit that I understood the sentiment behind the humans’ distrust, but that didn’t mean that I had to _like_ it. For now, though, I was just glad that we’d been freed from that gods-damned stone-cave. More than that, though…

“ _Hiccup good!”_ I purred between leaps across the wood-caves, trying to make myself sound as impressed as I could. “ _Speak good!_ ” I wanted to say much more: how proud I was of his bravery, how shocked I had been that he had _touched_ a human just to prove a point, how happy I was that he had managed to stay calm despite being petrified the entire time. That would involve some charades later.

Hiccup gave a nervous laugh. “I felt like my heart was gonna explode the entire time—sometimes it was all I could do to pay attention. But…thanks. I mean—here, let me try this.”

I skidded on top of the wood-cave we had just landed on, digging my claws into its surface and whipping my tail for balance. Hiccup purred and hummed at the same time, rising and falling in pitch in rapid succession. I tipped my head back and forth and perked my ears to listen better, staring off into space to put more focus into my hearing.

It was almost monotone and slow and _odd_ , but still recognizable and so, _so_ close.

“ _Good!_ ” I said again, craning my neck backwards to headbutt him. “ _Need practice. Practice now!_ ”

Hiccup wrapped his paws tight around my neck and purred. We held still, taking in the moment. Eventually, he let go and said, “Maybe I should start with something easier?”

“ _Human, dragon_ ,” I teased, and he swatted at my ear.

I resumed our meandering path over the wood-caves as Hiccup practiced, focusing more on getting the speed and subtle changes in pitch and vibration than actually saying something. If a dragon happened to fly within earshot, they would have thought we’d been possessed by some wayward spirits; a Shadow-Blender bounding over human nests with a much smaller Shadow-Blender sitting atop him and spouting out random, almost-dragonlike sounds.

As we continued, the both of us relaxed more; I became less hyper-focused on our surroundings, and a lightness began to replace the tight, high-strung tone Hiccup was speaking in. He became less worried about _how_ he did it and began focusing on the speaking itself, letting his sounds drift and carry into each other.

This made for some… _interesting_ vocalizations. It didn’t help that Hiccup’s voice was much higher-pitched than it had been as a dragon, making him sound like a fledgling. So at one point, when he casually strung together enough sounds that _almost_ sounded like a rather nasty curse, I burst out laughing.

“W-what?!” Hiccup asked, alarmed and self-conscious.

“ _Bad word!_ ” I chuckled, leaning over a tree-cave to see where we are. “Oh! _Us here!_ ”

I leapt down and trotted right into the smoke-cave. Hiccup slid off my back and winced, holding his metal leg up. At my worried look, he held up a paw.

“Don’t worry—it’s just sore,” he said. “Pushing a stump down on a hard metal surface all the time will do that.”

I sniffed at the fake leg for signs of infection and almost began complaining about it, but held my tongue. I was just grateful that the humans, despite all their flaws, had one thing that dragons did not: ingenuity that they extended outside of their own bodies. It made their lives full of artificial and fake objects, but in this case, it had allowed Hiccup to walk.

Hiccup hobbled off further into the smoke-cave, holding his arms out like wings whenever he lost his balance and teetered off to the side. I followed him as he went around and gathered as much paper and sticks as he could.

“ _Interested, why paper?_ ” I asked after Hiccup had taken damn near the whole supply and clutched it to his chest.

Hiccup sent me a strained smile. “Well, if today has taught me anything…” he peeked outside and sighed. “Gods, it’s only _noon_ and I’m exhausted. Anyways…”

He had begun to limp back towards the entrance, and I pushed up against him and poked his shoulder with my nose. “ _Up?_ ”

“Yeah,” he grunted as he climbed on with one paw, clutching the papers and sticks in the other. Once he was secured, I stepped outside, opened my wings, and hopped up onto a nearby wood-cave. We walked along the caves until we found somewhere somewhat comfortable and flat. I took care to choose one fairly _low_ to the ground—well within reach of the ground below, which was still devoid of humans. After spinning in a quick circle, I settled down, smiling and giving formal nods to nearby nestmates roosting on other wood-caves.

Hiccup seemed to have forgotten what we were talking about, reorganizing his papers and sticks and clucking at them. He had that distant, tired look in his eyes that meant that he would probably pass out from exhaustion soon.

I frowned at how quickly he had lost track of our conversation. “ _Paper?_ ” I asked again.

“Oh! Right, sorry,” Hiccup stammered. He climbed down and lied on his stomach besides me with his papers, cradling them close to him like eggs. “It’s just been a lot today—I have a lot on my mind. _Way_ too much. I don’t even know how to start processing this. Except...for one thing.”

With a small groan, he forced himself to sit up and set me with a serious, determined look.

I knew right away what he was going to say, and almost tried to interrupt him before he started.

“Toothless, _please_ ,” Hiccup begged. “ _Please_ let the elders heal your tail.”

The surrounding dragons who could understand Norse perked up.

It was entirely possible, of course—something that the elders made sure I knew damn near every other day. It would be an incredibly painful procedure, but something that would only take a few minutes to do and possibly a day or so’s time worth of re-adjusting to it. With the sheer amount of magic available through the elder dragons, there would be no fear of the magic accidentally injuring me or going awry.

That wasn’t the point.

“ _No,_ ” I said, filling my tone with confidence and resolution. “ _Hiccup no fly, Toothless no fly._ ”

“But that’s not _fair!_ ” Hiccup burst. “Why should you be stuck like this because of me?”

Because the very opposite was what was “unfair”. Because I would rather have the gods strike me down than open my wings and fly unburdened, free and joyous and unbounded. Because I would never forgive myself, to take off into the skies and leave my brother grounded below, watching longingly from the dirt.

Because _that_ wasn’t fair. Because _that_ wasn’t _right_ , to abandon him like that, to flaunt to him everything that he could never be as he stood there in his human form with his eyes trained ever-upwards.

“ _Hiccup no fly, Toothless no fly_ ,” I repeated. “ _Hiccup walk, Toothless walk. Me no want fly no Hiccup. That_ sad, _no happy._ ”

“But…with that nest, and the Bog Burglars—” Hiccup began.

“ _Hiccup!_ ” I interrupted, purring and nuzzling him. “ _Nestmate here. Us nest big, Berk big. It is fine._ ”

“No, it’s— _ugh!_ ”

Hiccup groaned and began scrubbing my saliva off of his fur with his paws. I stuck my tongue out and feigned licking him again, and he swatted at me.

“I really think you should do it, Toothless,” Hiccup said. His brief bout of energy faded, and he slouched over, leaning heavily on my side. “Even if we don’t know whether we’ll be attacked or not...I _want_ you to be able to fly.”

“ _Me want_ you _fly_ ,” I retorted, lifting my nose up delicately.

Hiccup groaned and rubbed his eyes. “What, me riding on your back wouldn’t be good enough? It’s good enough for me!”

“ _Hiccup. No. Fly_ ,” I said, “ _Toothless. No. Fly._ ”

“Dragon of the Sun, why are you so stubborn?” Hiccup moaned, flopping over as dramatically as he could.

“ _Me?!_ ” I squeaked. “ _No_ you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and then shook himself awake. “This isn’t the end of this, you know.”

I gave a sad grin. “Certainly, considering we talk about this _all the time._ ” I shifted and rested my head down beside him, covering him with my wing and curling my tail around him.

“Mhm,” he said, scooting closer to me.

“ _Sleep?_ ”I asked. When he began to shake his head, I amended, “ _Me tired. Us need sleep._ ”

“Maybe...little bit,” he said. His breathing evened out.

Well, if _I_ had learned anything today, it was that there was nothing like a healthy dose of peer pressure to convince him to take care of himself.

I tried to stay awake and alert, but my mind raced with the day’s events. From confronting the human “Dog’s-breath”, to speaking to Astrid, to meeting that awful stranger, to the gathering of the human nest…this was _not_ how we had planned our morning to go.

It was much better than expected, and for that, I was immensely grateful. As stressful as the day had been, Hiccup had pushed through with that blind stubbornness of his that I had come to both love and hate.

Yet even with the many victories we had achieved today and the rekindling of his confidence, there was still something…wrong. One relatively good day had not magically cured him, and we had yet to truly _speak_ about this problem. Now that we had finally improved our language to at least address it, I wasn’t going to let up.

Because Hiccup had physically recovered, but he was ill at mind.

The weight of it all rested heavy on my wings, pinning me to the ground. I pushed closer to him for comfort.  I was well-aware that by staying on top of the wood-caves, we were still, in some part, avoiding the humans. Yet we had done as much as we could for now, and for that, we needed a well-deserved break.

There was only more to come.

**o.O.o**

A dragon screamed.

I snapped awake, flaring my wings out and unsheathing my teeth and claws.

“ _Woah!_ ” Hiccup yelped. A millisecond later, several nestmates let out horrified cries.

It was enough to clear the drowsiness of sleep from my head, allowing me to assess the situation.

Fledglings were playfighting in the air in clumsy swoop and turns, heading to the opposite edge of the island—hence the screaming. The sun was setting, many of our nestmates were lounging on the nest we were on, humans were staring at us from the ground…

…and I had also flung Hiccup clear off the wood-cave, considering that he was hanging from his furs by the jaws of a young, tan Flame-Skin.

I gaped at him in horror. “I’m…” I swallowed. “I’m _so sorry_ , Hiccup!”

“It’s fine, Toothless,” he gasped, although he was still out of breath from the fright.

The Flame-Skin pulled Hiccup around so that he wasn’t dangling over a sheer drop. “’ere shuff I put ‘em?” He asked, his voice muffled around Hiccup’s furs.

“U-uh, here,” I stuttered, still shaken, and pointed my nose besides me.

The Flame-Skin stooped over and gently set Hiccup down, eyes lingering on his fake leg. Hiccup scrambled to his four paws and purred, stretching his neck to nose the Flame-Skin. Our nestmate was quick to return the gesture, closing his eyes and leaning it with a huge smile.

Hiccup leaned back and, the gods bless him, tried to speak.

“ _’an ou,_ ” he thrummed.

The Flame-Skin froze, blue eyes wide. “Great Dragoness of the Moon, did I break him?!”

“No!” I hissed. “He said ‘thank you’!”

The Flame-Skin took this in along with Hiccup’s expectant, hopeful expression. He threw himself down into a bow. “Y-you’re very welcome, my King! Forgive me for not understanding you!”

Hiccup nudged him again, humming in a soothing manner. The Flame-Skin backed away, still bowing, and nestled down just at the edge of the wood-cave. All around us, our nestmates began to snicker and tease him, and he curled up in embarrassment.

“Thank you for catching him!” I said in an attempt to make him feel better. That seemed to only make him feel worse, and he hid his face behind a wing. “Oh, don’t worry—his speaking is…still, ah…in development?”

Hiccup plopped down next to me, leaning into my side. “You know, out of everyone here, I think it should be one of _us_ who’s the most embarrassed.”

“N-no, my King!” The Flame-Skin yipped, lifting his head. He was apparently one of our nestmates who could understand human speech—surprising, considering he was so young. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you—I should have listened more!”

I chuckled at the irony behind his words—was that not the root of our problems with the humans?

“Don’t worry,” I told him. Then, for Hiccup’s benefit, “ _It is fine._ ”

If Hiccup speaking caused him a shock, this only doubled it. The poor Flame-Skin’s eyes got even bigger as he tipped his head to the side. Then, overcome with mortification at not comprehending us _again_ , he ducked his head under a wing and pretended to sleep.

“Aww,” Hiccup laughed, along with the rest of our observing nestmates. Which was all of them, seeing that they had witnessed one of their Kings thrown off a wood-cave seconds ago.

“ _Toothless bad brother,_ ” I groaned. “ _Sorry!_ ”

“It’s fine, Toothless,” Hiccup said, shifting around until he was lying on his stomach. “At least I’m _really_ awake now. But hey, did I sound alright? He seemed kinda freaked out…”

Thank the gods, a change in subject. “ _Good, good practice,_ ” I said, trying not to sound too relieved. “ _Hear word!_ ”

Hiccup blinked. His eyes brightened with life and he straightened up, beaming. “R-really?”

I nodded exuberantly—what, like I was about to say _no?_ —and he bounced in place in excitement.

“I…I did it! We did it!” He gasped, like he couldn’t actually believe it. “I-I never thought that…I mean, I _wanted_ to, but I always thought I wouldn’t be able to.”

“Nonsense,” I said, rolling my eyes. Hiccup was the most capable dragon that I knew; of course he could do what no other could.

Hiccup threw his paws around my neck and pressed his cheek against mine. “Thank you, Toothless,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “This means so much to me. _‘ank ou._ ”

“ _Love_ ,” I thrummed, bringing up a paw to return the hug and letting my eyes slide shut. The stress from before drifted away, and for just a moment—no matter how small—everything seemed alright. We would need to return to the King’s nest eventually, but I was more than happy to let that wait.

“Well...now that I’m awake, I guess I can work on this,” Hiccup mused, shifting around and pawing at his sticks and papers. “I don’t think Dad would be done talking to Trader Johann by now.”

“Think, or hope?” I teased. “Because _I_ hope.”

He offered a small grin and began to work with such a deep focus that he didn’t even try to speak anymore. Unwilling to distract him, I watched his work as he moved his paw across the papers, the lines became more steady and intentional with each try. He would sometimes wince and drop his stick, flexing his little claws. He continued regardless.

Now that we were awake, our nestmates were eager to crowd around us. They rejoiced at our being there, telling wild stories and taking the opportunity to offer food to us now that they had the chance. To many of them, it was their first interaction with us since coming to Berk, our nest was so large.

Above all, finally spending some time with our nestmates brought with it something unexpected: comfort. It was easy to let go a little, to get carried away and pretend that everything had happened was only a dream. It made the future seem so much less daunting.

We remained like that until the sun had fully set, settling a calm and frigid blanket of shade upon the earth.

**o.O.o**

The walk back was cold, save for the warmth Hiccup provided as he rested on my shoulders. It wasn’t unbearable, and more than once, I considered asking Hiccup if we could perhaps sleep outside and pretend to have forgotten our arrangements with the King.

That would just stagnate everything more, though. Hiccup was right; like it or not, we had to move forward, and that meant throwing ourselves into these uncomfortable situations.

 _We are Kings, too_ , I had been telling myself for more than a full turning of the moon. It had been a mantra I’d repeated to myself to keep my confidence, to know that I was not outranked by the human King, to assert our worth.

It was time that I started acting like it. The very fact that our nestmates considered our presence near them as a delightful surprise was proof enough that we had been acting like fledglings. We had been naïve and, as much as it shamed me, fearful. Rightly so, of course, but we had mulled in it rather than pushing on.

As reasonable and rational and logical as all of that was, though…

“ _To’ess?_ ” Hiccup asked, trying once more to speak in our unique language.

I twitched my tail and fluttered my wings. The King’s nest was just past this curve, up this lonely hill blotted out by the dark shadows of the forest. Standing still, all that could be heard was the rustling foliage, the crickets, and the distant ocean. The Dragoness of the Moon was bright above, lending guidance to all who remained awake.

“ _No want,_ ” I growled, allowing my tone to reflect my anxiety. “ _Me nervous._ ”

Hiccup attempted dragon speech again, “ _tt’s ‘ine._ ”

“Hm?”

“It’s fine,” Hiccup said sullenly. “But…we’ve been dragging this out too long. It’s not like he’s gonna yell at us. Although that just makes it worse...”

“ _Yes_ ,” I agreed. The King’s rather passive and submissive behavior towards us in the past couple of days had been a confusing breath of fresh air. He hadn’t even been forcing Hiccup to go to the smoke-cave, only asking if he would go and frowning worriedly when Hiccup spluttered out an excuse.

Hiccup wrapped his paws around my neck and purred. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and shook myself off. Everything would be fine. Even if the last time we had spoken with the King had been a disaster, that didn’t mean that it would be true for this time. I wouldn’t _allow_ it to be true.

I took us along again, trying to ignore my racing heart and the way that Hiccup grew more and more tense despite his attempts to comfort me.

So needless to say, we were a little wound up when an ear-splitting shriek ripped through the air.

“Ah!” Hiccup and I both yelped. I spread my wings and spun around, crouching low and staring up at the dark sky.

It was a dragon. Was it the other nest? Was it a raid? Were we being attacked? What would we do, alone in the middle of an empty pathway? Where were they? Where was—

A small figure plummeted to the ground—so small that I did not see it until it was too late to react.

I remained frozen, staring at the tiny Flame-Skin in shocked confusion. Hiccup leapt off of me, landed clumsily on his four paws, and closed the short gap between us.

“H-help…” the fledgling wheezed. His eyes slipped shut, his head thumped to the ground, and his body went limp.

Hiccup and I exchanged a horrified look, and I rushed forward.

“Oh, Dragoness of the Moon,” I whispered, leaning down and sniffing the fledgling. He didn’t _smell_ sick or wounded—all I could pick up was fear and ocean spray. “ _No smell hurt. No fight? Do not know!_ ”

Hiccup hissed in confusion and fear. “ _’hat?_ ” He asked nobody, craning his head towards the heavens. His eyes widened, and he gave a sharp warning hiss.

Four more fledglings stumbled to the earth—the very same ones whom I had scolded this morning for stealing. The playfulness in their eyes was gone, their rambunctious energy dissipated. Like their fallen friend, they reeked of fear-scent and saltwater, their eyes were alight with terror. They were so shaken, they could barely stand.

“What happened?!” I demanded.

“ _K-Kings!_ ” The female Two-Head wailed, rushing towards us. Hiccup reached his paws out and let her dash right into him. She curled up against him, whimpering, and he gave an unsteady purr.

“ _I’tts ine_ ,” He murmured, holding her close.

I crouched down as the rest of the fledglings did the same, purring and nuzzling them as they cowered against us. For a long, horrible moment, the fledglings did nothing but cry, whine, and cling to us.

I was sure we were under attack by the time another Flame-Skin had collected himself enough to speak.

“W-we were just p-playing,” he sobbed, “we were seeing w-who could fly the—the farthest, and…and…” He curled up with a sob.

My heart dropped. “It’s okay!” I soothed, nosing the distraught fledgling and giving him a lick on the head. “It’s okay—please, tell me what happened?”

“We lost our friend!” The female Two-Head wept. “The Hum-Wing! We lost her!”

“ _No Hum-Wing_ ,” I explained to Hiccup. He reared his head, holding the Two-Head tighter. To the fledglings, I said in as gentle a voice as I could, “And how did you lose her?”

The Two-Walker hung her head in shame. “She flew the farthest,” she whimpered. “I-I made fun of her, I told her a Hum-Wing can’t fly over the sea, and she flew out to prove me wrong.” Her voice grew in pitch and intensity, “It—it was _all my fault!_ ”

“ _Fly ocean—no nest_ ,” I breathed to Hiccup. “ _No here._ ”

“ _When?!_ ” He demanded, crouching closer to the fledglings and baring his teeth in anxiety. I could almost imagine him casting his wings out over them to keep them close.

“We looked for her _all evening!_ ” The Flame-Skin said. “B-but the ocean is so big and scary, a-and it was making a lot of weird noise too! A-and once the sun set, it was too hard to see!”

That meant the fledgling had been lost when the sun had been up— _hours_ ago _._

Oh, gods.

“ _When sun_ ,” I told Hiccup.

He closed his eyes and rested his head in his paw, gritting his teeth. He had to take a deep breath to compose himself for the fledglings. They still picked up on it.

“We thought we could find her…” the Two-Walker sniffled, curling up against Hiccup’s side. “We thought we would get in trouble…”

“We’re so stupid!” The Two-Head snarled at nobody, baring tiny and weak fangs. “We should be exiled!”

“Nonsense,” I said. “We’ll—we’re heading back to the nest right now, alright? We’ll have entire flares looking for her in just a moment.” To Hiccup, “ _Flare now_.”

He nodded, lifting out a paw and beckoning the weeping fledglings towards him. They clung to him. “ _It—is—fine,_ ” he soothed.

“W-what?” The Flame-Skin sobbed between gasps. “It’s—it’s _not!_ We—we need to tell the others! Half of us are still looking on the coast!”

Horror rushed through my body like a gale. Another one could very well be flying out to sea in desperation. Their wings were too small, their flight too inexperienced. The ocean was rough and blasted unpredictable and unforgiving winds without warning. Storms came and went, and steady air—air suitable for flying—was too high up for dragons as young as the fledglings to reach.

Alone, flying over the ocean was a death sentence for a fledgling.

“Shh,” I said, pushing the horrible thought away. “Let’s go. _Up?_ ”

Hiccup shifted his weight around and rose to his two legs. One by one, he lifted each brokenhearted fledgling and placed them on my back, where they clung to my spines and buried their noses into my scales to block out the world. He cradled the exhausted, unconscious fledgling in his own paws, shifting him around into as comfortable a position as he could get.

“ _Re’dy_ ,” he said.

We turned back towards Berk.

Footsteps approached alarmingly close behind us. A twig snapped.

“H-Hiccup?”

The both of us spun on our feet. The King of humans was standing right there—most likely _had_ been standing there—with an expression of such profound horror that it was almost as if he had understood what the fledglings had said. It took me a moment to register _why_ he looked so distraught, so lost. I gasped and sent Hiccup a wide-eyed look.

“Dad!” Hiccup said, equally surprised. He let a soft growl escape him and quickly cut himself off. “I’m sorry, but something’s happened, we have to go—”

“What… _was_ that?” The King gasped. “You were walking around like…what…what were those _sounds_ you were making?”

At first Hiccup scrunched his brow in confusion—and then he paled in the soft moonlight.

“I was…speaking,” he drew out, blinking at me. I returned the look.

Neither of us had even _noticed_ ; we’d been too busy with the fledglings. But he had spoken—and what more, the fledglings had understood him!

I wanted _so badly_ to be happy—to prance around him, to sing praises to the gods, to drag him to each and every nestmate and have him speak to them just to show off his talent and ingenuity.

 _“Need go!_ ” I pressed instead.

Hiccup set his jaw and nodded. “Dad, a fledgling—a baby dragon is missing,” he said. “ _Has_ been missing. It—it might already be too late, we gotta go. I promise you, I’ll explain everything later.”

The King sighed. “Hiccup,” he said, and I knew just from the way he spoke that he was putting his foot down. “This has gone on long enough. We _need_ to speak about…about this,” he waved at Hiccup. Oddly enough, this seemed to bring a small, hopeful smile to his lips, and he waited expectantly.

Hiccup shook his head with a soft growl. “That can wait!”

The King slowly dropped his paws. He stared, his eyes lost and disappointed.

Hiccup winced, shifting his gaze away. “I’m…sorry,” he whispered. He turned his back on his father, as did I. “We have to go,” he murmured, stepping closer to me.

I dipped a shoulder for him, but he stopped just before climbing on. With the fledglings stretched across my back, there was no room for him. We shared a look of understanding; we would not force them to move from their place of safety, not when they had been through so much. He would have to walk.

“Son,” the King said. “Please, I—I’m trying to understand.”

“You’ve done so well,” I snorted, not even giving him the dignity of looking at him with the corner of my eye. For him to ignore such a horrible event—to completely dismiss the almost certain loss of a young life…

 “Wait.” The King drew closer, and this time I _did_ look at him, if only to make sure he didn’t try something.

His eyes met mine, and he stopped a winglength away. “I’m sorry,” he said, holding his paws up complacently. “Earlier, I thought—I thought that you weren’t coming home again. So when I saw you here, I…that’s besides the point,” he interrupted himself. He straightened and took another step closer. “We can’t keep doing this, Hiccup. You grow more distant by the day, you’ve started to become afraid of the villagers, you keep acting like a...a…” He didn’t finish the sentence, and said with soft regret, “You won’t even _look_ at me.”

Hiccup shifted around to do just the opposite, staring defiantly at the King.

“Hiccup…” The King reached a trembling paw out. “Please, _talk_ to me. Just this morning you wanted to. What am I doing wrong?”

This softened Hiccup’s expression. He looked at the King’s outreaching paw.

Hiccup sighed and turned to me. “Here—take him.” He held up the unconscious fledgling. “Run back to our nestmates and tell them what happened.”

I balked. “ _N-no!_ _Hiccup here!_ ” I threw my head at my back. The fledglings could make room or something—I wasn’t about to leave him here alone.

“You’re a lot faster than me,” Hiccup said. “It’ll take at least half an hour for me to walk back. If it’s been hours, then we need to get flares out as soon as possible.”

I glared at him and then the ground. My ears and wings drooped, and I hung my head. “ _…No want._ ”

“Me neither.” Hiccup put a warm paw on my neck. “But we have to. I’ll be fine.”

I straightened up. He was right.

We were Kings, too.

“I won’t take long,” I promised him. “ _Me here. Certain._ ”

I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against his. Then I stooped and gently took the fledgling’s scruff in my teeth.

Twisting around, I opened my wings and threw myself into a desperate sprint. Dread collected heavier and heavier in my heart the further I left my brother alone and open and exposed. With each bound away, nervous anxiety rushed through me with such intensity that it was painful.

Leaving Hiccup was wrong _._ It _hurt._ We had never been separated since the Queen’s fall—we had _always_ been together, and here I was, leaving him at the mercy of the King.

The path to the human nest shortened in what felt like a heartbeat. I barreled into the nest and skidded to a stop. Setting the still-limp fledgling on the ground, I threw my head to the sky and spread my wings.

“Our nestmates, to us!” I roared. My voice echoed hollowly off the human nests. “ _Quickly!_ ”

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

Toothless was gone.

Toothless was gone.

I clutched at my chest and closed my eyes, trying to force my frantic heart to stop, for the pain slicing through it to subside.

He was gone—for the first time, he was gone, and I had never felt so helpless and vulnerable and _weak_ —

Something touched my shoulder. I cried out, spun, and clawed at it even as I lost my balance and fell.

Dad was already backing away, holding his hands up like I was ready to blast him with fire. “It’s alright,” he rushed. “I won’t—I won’t hurt you.”

As he spoke, his voice cracked with fear and pain. My mouth went dry.

“I know,” I reminded myself. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Lying there on the ground with Dad looming over me, the strength in my limbs failed as a torrent of lightheadedness and nausea rammed into me. A great weight pounded onto my chest, squeezing me so tightly and unexpectedly that it was difficult and painful to breathe. Shadows stalked the edges of my mind, bringing with them unwanted memories—of the incident just a few days ago and the many times before where I had been in this position, where Dad had cornered me or trapped me or hurt me or…

I squeezed my eyes shut. _Stop it!_

The memories rushed through me, too fast to process yet slow enough for them to feel horrifyingly real. Dad was standing there, holding his sword and charging at me with hatred in his eyes. I blinked and I was standing beneath him, broken and chained and desperately trying to look unconscious. I tasted his blood on my teeth—heard the dragons of the Kill Ring die for me—felt the ground vibrate as the crowd above roared and cheered—

It was too much—it was too much—!

I couldn’t _breathe!_

I bared my teeth at it all, curled up, and clenched my claws into my fur.

 _It’s not real!_ I screamed at the shadows. _It’s not real!_

The shadows seemed to laugh. Something grabbed me in rough claws. A petrified voice shouted, but it sounded muffled and far away.

I snarled, bending my fingers into claws, and lunged at the shadows—

“ _Hiccup!_ ”

Dad flinched away from my swinging hand, but didn’t loosen his tight hold on my shoulders.

I heaved frantic, shallow breaths, blinking rapidly. Where was I? What happened? Where was Toothless?

I met my father’s horrified stare, and it all came crashing back.

“Please,” Dad whispered, eyes glossy and his hands quivering. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

I sat there, wheezing and sweaty and shivering and chest burning.

Hot anger burned through me, just as sudden and unexpected as the attack.

It had happened _again._ The first time and second time, I could almost dismiss—they had been so close together, and I had genuinely felt threatened both times.

But we had been working _so_ hard. We had been improving our language so much that I had managed to _speak_ it. We had made an unsteady truce with Dogsbreath—the person I had assumed was the _source_ of the problem. We had gotten Astrid to help us, we had convinced the villagers to be more open to peace, Dad had made it crystal-clear that he was on our side...hell, I’d even managed to get some good drawings of some projects done!

After all that, I could almost think that they were isolated incidents. But Dad had been standing there, _begging_ me to listen to him, doing _nothing_ to threaten me, and it still happened _again!_ And now we had a large group of raiding dragons headed towards us, villagers getting ready to attack dragons, entire tribes blaming their problems on me, and even a missing fledgling that was probably dead!

“I don’t…” I swallowed and blinked away frustrated tears. “I don’t _know!_ ”

Dad hung his head, worry lines crossing his face and making him look twice his age. “Gobber spoke to me a while ago. He’s suspected this far longer than I have.” He closed his eyes. “I should have listened to him.”

I tried to understand—but it was like he was speaking a different language. I couldn’t focus. My senses were failing me, my hearing muffled and my sight dim and my nose useless. Unlike with Toothless, I was left clawing at his words, fighting to hold onto them. “W-what?”

Dad studied me. His eyes had heavy bags underneath them. “Most adults have seen this before,” he said in a slow and gentle voice, like he was explaining this to a child. “Men who come back from war will stop practicing their battle skills. People who suffer horrible dragon attacks will no longer bear the sight of them, nor go out at night.” Pain swam in his eyes, and he continued, “I’ve never seen it in someone as young as you, but looking back, it’s easy to see the signs. And not just…this.”

Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I furiously scrubbed them away and looked off to the side. “Well, I guess I’m just special,” I growled. “I-I’ve always been good at being the screwup.”

“Don’t say that.” Dad straightened up, setting his jaw. “It’s high time that I stepped in. I thought that if things could go back to normal, then you’d get better...but I was wrong.”

I shook my head. “I don’t _want_ things to go back to ‘normal’.”

“Then…what do you want?”

“W-what do you think?” I snapped, glaring at him. Dad paled, but I couldn’t stop. “ _Nothing_ is getting better! Just acting like everything’s fine won’t make it fine, and, and I don’t even feel _safe_ anymore! Like any second now, someone’s going to attack me or Toothless or we’re going to be attacked by another tribe or...or by...”

I hunched my shoulders up and looked down at his hands, which he had dropped at some point—I hadn’t noticed.

“...or by me,” Dad filled in what I left out.

The anger seeped away as quickly as it came, leaving me stumbling and breathless. In its place came a hollow emptiness, something that sent chills racing down my spine and my hair standing on end. My arms and legs felt leaden with weariness, and a wave of exhaustion overtook me.

 _I miss Toothless_ , I thought dully to myself, clutching my arms to my chest and focusing on my prosthetic foot.

“Hiccup…” Dad murmured, reaching a tentative hand out to touch my arm. I stared at his hand, but made no effort to lean away. “Gods, Hiccup…I’m so sorry. How…how can I do better?”

I found myself looking for Toothless, and the emptiness pulling away at me widened when I remembered he wasn’t there. I had tried to mentally brace myself for this conversation all day, but now with my brother gone, I felt as though everything had slipped away.

“I…” I trailed off, hanging my head. “It’s just…you keep acting like nothing’s wrong, like—like if you pretend that everything didn’t happen the way it did, then they didn’t, and—”

A shadow passed overhead. I fell silent. Crouching close to the ground, I craned my head up and scanning the sky with my half-blind eyes.

Just against the stars, I could see dragons flying—the search flares. Homesickness and longing struck me. I wanted like nothing else to be up there with them. I _belonged_ there, free in that night sky.

Still, the sight sent a pang of relief through me, both for the fledgling and myself. With flares leaving, that meant Toothless was on his way back.

The ache in my chest began to ebb away. _Toothless is coming_ , I told myself. _It’s going to be okay. Just stop freaking out._

“Hiccup?” Dad asked.

I jumped. “Huh?”

“You were saying…?” Dad said, his voice low and gentle. “I want you to be able to talk to me, son. Please, tell me what I can do, or…or even what’s on your mind. _Anything._ ”

For the first time, I lifted my eyes to look straight into my father’s. He was trying—he was really, really trying.

And I was pushing him away, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, even though I hated every inch of myself for it, even though I tried and tried to control this fear and send it away forever. I _craved_ that unsteady bond we had once had, because even that was better than this. I _knew_ that. So _why_ did I still feel so scared of him? I knew he would never try to hurt me—that he was going out of his way to show the opposite.

Or…I knew that he would never try to hurt me _now_.

But he had done that and worse—he had wounded me and Toothless and dozens of other dragons in a far deeper and more personal way than simply striking with a sword. He had been the monster that hunted us, that had tried to kill us over and over, that had thrown us in that demonic Kill Ring.

My shoulders drooped. I knew fully well why I was having such a hard time, and so did he. Yet here we were, dancing around the problem and pouncing at its reflections.

“Dad…?” I began. My voice shook.

He leaned forward, eyes bright. I peeked up at him—and then did a double take.

Just behind him, there were a group of dragons hovering low enough for even me to make out the more detailed parts of their appearance. All of them were watching intently, teeth glinting. Had Toothless sent an extra flare here?

I met the golden eyes of the Two-Walker closest to us.

The Two-Walker tipped her head aside, threw her tail behind her, and pulled her wings into a dive.

 _...I don’t know her,_ I realized.

A heartbeat later, she swooped over us and snapped her talons out.

My breath was ripped out of me. The ground rushed away with dizzying speed. The Two-Walker banked hard away from Berk.

The vertigo of being snatched off the ground so quickly made my head spin and my ears pop. Yet even through my daze and the familiar sound of wind racing past my ears, an anguished scream cut through the pain and confusion and disorientation.

“ _Hiccup!_ ”

**o.O.o**

Up and up and up we went. The frigid air stung. The Two-Walker’s talons dug into my back and chest almost deep enough to draw blood. I struggled to breathe.

After several second’s worth of readjusting, I squirmed around in the Two-Walker’s grasp. She gave a surprised yip and tilted her head to look at me. She looked very business-like, calm and serious.

Then she spoke to me. I caught a question through her inquiring tone, and something that sounded very close to Toothless’ word for “ _human_ ”—or was it “ _dragon_ ”? It was all too fast and complex for me to even begin to make heads or tails of it. But there was _something_ that stuck out to me and made me blink up at her in surprise.

This dragon had an accent.

She drew her undertones out longer than I was used to, and her words had a more staccato-like delivery in comparison to our nestmates’. She turned to another dragon in her group, a Flame-Skin, and asked him an apprehensive question.

The Flame-Skin responded in the same accent, and just after him, a colorful species of dragon that I had never seen before did the same.

 _The other nest?_ I thought. _Are they the ones that were spotted by the fishing ships? Or are they different?_

They continued to speak. I looked back and forth between them and struggled to follow their conversation. They sounded confused and unhappy, glancing over at me in disbelief every now and then. The two males kept sending nervous looks around them, down towards Berk.

The talons were digging into me, deeper and deeper, and spots began to form in my vision.

It occurred to me that I should probably be scared.

I shuddered at the disconnected way the thought came to mind—how it had been more of a simple observation than any sense of self-preservation. It was like I was outside my own body, disconnected from the reality of the situation. It didn’t _feel_ real to me, like I was in a dream even though I knew I wasn’t. I wanted to care, but instead I was just...empty.

I was so tired of feeling like this.

Fueled by my own frustration, I began struggling again. The Two-Walker cut herself off and hissed a warning at me. The Flame-Skin made soothing shushing sounds at me, and the colorful dragon narrowed his eyes.

I bared my teeth at them and growled, “ _No!_ ”

All of them reared and yelped. The colorful dragon abruptly disappeared, only to melt back into view a few seconds later. I began to slip out of the Two-Walker’s grasp until she realized what was happening and redoubled her hold. She craned her neck down, narrowing an eye suspiciously, and asked me the same question as before. Again, I caught that paradox of “ _human_ ” or “ _dragon_ ”.

With a scowl, I ignored her and kicked at the air.

She huffed and said something to the other two. The Flame-Skin shrugged and threw his head with an urgent hiss. The colorful dragon drew closer and sniffed at me, humming in confusion.

My head spun as they shifted out of their hovers and began flying north. There were no other dragons ahead or behind—they were the only ones.

They were picking up speed.

They were…they were taking me.

My eyes widened as, _finally_ , I began to feel scared. This was real. This was actually happening.

A quick glance around showed that we were the only dragons at this height and that there were a few groups flying low around the coast. They were searching for the lost fledgling out at sea. They would never think to look _up._

I sucked in a deep breath and cupped my hands around my mouth.

“ _TOOTHLESS!_ ”

The talons clenched so tight around my chest that my breath was knocked out of me. With a terrified snarl, the Two-Walker rattled me around like she would prey. The world jolted and spun painfully, my arms and legs flying in all directions. I tried to grab onto her to escape the worst of it.

When she was done, I let my limbs and head dangle in the air. The colorful dragon scolded her with a furious hiss, and she gave a dismissive grunt. A few seconds passed, and her grasp on me relaxed considerably.

We were about to pass over the village. No dragon had answered my call; we were too far up.

I would have to get out of this on my own.

With nothing else left and time running out, I searched in vain through the sea of foliage below. Even in the darkness, I could make out some tall trees ahead. The sight barely registered before I lurched around, grabbed the ankle of the Two-Walker, and sunk my teeth into her flesh as deep as I could.

Blood filled my mouth and almost made me gag. The Two-Walker screeched and, on instinct, flung me away.

My insides wrenched around as gravity took its hold, dragging me by my tail down to the earth. I spread my arms and legs out like wings and squinted against the stinging air. It wasn’t enough.

I was falling, falling like the crippled and broken and useless dragon I was.

The dark maw of the forest was almost upon me. The strangers weren’t going to catch me—they weren’t naive enough to fly this low, where my nestmates _would_ see them.

Time stretched out before me as I realized that my stupid plan had failed, that I had made a terrible mistake in trusting these dragons to actually care about me, that I was going to pointlessly die here and leave Toothless all alone and Dad thinking that I hated him and worst of all, that it would be _all my fault_ , that it would be because I let my demons take their toll on me, because I was selfish enough to stop caring about myself simply because I didn’t want to.

_I’m so sorry._

I closed my eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Toothless

“… _toothless…_ ”

I lifted my ears and turned to the elder Hum-Wing, who was tending to the unconscious fledgling. “Did you hear that?”

“I did not,” she croaked, sniffing the fledgling. With a soft groan, she murmured, “This young one is the brother of the missing fledgling. I pray that we find her.”

The feeling of _wrong_ had yet to loosen its grip on me, but now it was worse. “I heard something,” I growled, whipping my tail and pawing at the earth.

“I didn’t!” The excitable young Flame-Skin said helpfully. “What did you think you heard?”

After a moment to collect my thoughts, a spike of fear burst through my limbs. “I thought I heard Hiccup,” I whispered, eyes flicking about.

Almost every single dragon was out on the coast. All that remained were the few dragons who opted to stay behind so that the fledglings would feel safe. We were still grounded in the human nest, and a measurable crowd of Vikings had formed around us.

I couldn’t stand it anymore, being separated from Hiccup.

“Take care of them from here,” I told the Hum-Wing.

She bowed. I wasted not a second longer, spinning and leaving them there.

My paws pounded on the ground, claws tearing through the soft dirt and kicking up clumps of mud. I didn’t know how or why, but something was wrong. Something was wrong and Hiccup was _alone_. Deep within me, I knew I had failed him, and where it counted the most.

 _I’m coming!_ I wanted to shout out to him. _I’m sorry! I’m coming!_

I rounded a curve in the pathway.

The King yelped and jumped around me just before I toppled him over.

We both skidded to a stop, equally flustered and out of breath. I met his eyes.

“Why…” I took a deep, gasping breath. “Why are you _alone?_ ”

“A dragon took him!” The King cried, eyes flashing with desperation. “You told it to, right?!”

My wings and tail fell to the ground. I gaped.

Then I got ahold of myself. “Where?!” I demanded, my voice tight and shrill. “When?!”

The King shared my rising terror, his skin losing its color and eyes widening upon seeing my reaction. “It was a Nadder, a black one, it grabbed him and flew this direction, but I lost sight of it—it went off over there!” He threw his paw back towards the human nest.

I launched myself at the nearest tree, gouging deep wounds into it as I hurled my way up. I thrust myself as far out of the canopy as I could, training my ears and eyes on the sky and filling my throat with lighting gas.

 _Please no, please no, please no_ —

Movement fluttered in the corner of my eye. I swiveled my head back towards the human nest.

I saw him for a split second and felt the world underneath me shatter.

I froze, not wanting to believe it. Then, “ _NESTMATES!_ ”

I had sent several magic-enhanced fireblasts in the intruders’ direction before my call had even finished echoing. It was the first time I had had truly had need of my magic in so long, so I had plenty to spare—and I spared none. My fire was so powerful that it almost reached the intruding dragons, exploding in a brilliant purple-white starburst that sent white light upon the entire landscape. It illuminated the cowards, revealing them against the sky.

They turned tail and fled north with the speed only matched by the guilty.

In that moment, I considered it: to bring forth soulfire, that magic of the gods, and send them to their deaths with it. It pulsed just at my heart, tempting me with divine strength.

Hiccup wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t abuse the magic of the gods.

And Hiccup needed me.

I threw myself off the tree and pulled my wings into a blind fall through the scratching branches of the pines. A moment of pain and darkness, and my front paws made contact with the ground. I slid into a sprint.

I didn’t have to run long.

With my eyes locked upwards, I caught sight of a break in the canopy first. Trailing down from it was a path of destruction—snapped tree branches, pieces of the pelts Hiccup wore, smears of blood…

I stumbled and sunk to the ground.

“Oh, Dragoness of the Moon…”

Moonlight poured through the empty space he’d left in the foliage and shrouded him in a spirit-like glow. He was slumped over the base of a broad branch close to the trunk. His limbs hung in the air, shifting ever-so-slightly with the breeze. His fur dangled over his face, matted and covered in leaves and twigs. He cast long, ghastly shadows onto the ground below, blotting blackened streaks in the cold mist that hung in the air.

He wasn’t moving.

No _._ This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening! It _couldn’t_ be!

_Why?!_

The sight was too much for me to bear, my brother dangling there like discarded prey. He looked...he looked...

My throat welled. “ _NO!_ ” I snarled and sobbed and begged all at once, refusing to even _think_ that he was gone, that he had been ripped away from me so cruelly and so suddenly.

I forced myself to stand up, and it was like my body wasn’t my own, like I was lost and disconnected. Snapping my wings open, I flung myself up towards the trunk, flapping as hard as I could. I just managed to land below Hiccup.

“ _H-Hiccup?_ ” I crawled closer to him, rattling with terror so much that I nearly lost my purchase and fell. “S-stop doing that— _please!_ You’re fine! You have to be!”

I paused and dragged my eyes over to his chest. I was shaking so much that I could hardly make out any fine details.

I stared and prayed.

Time came crashing to a halt.

Hiccup’s chest rose and fell.

The relief was so overwhelming that I swayed, nearly losing my grip. With a choked sob, I scooted further up the tree, leaned over my brother, and took up his fake furs in my teeth. It was almost too easy to lift him off of the branch, he was so motionless and underweight.

I hurried us back down to safety, trying both to take it slow to avoid injuring him any further and also to get down as quickly as possible. Hiccup was unresponsive as I set him down and nudged him.

“ _Hiccup?_ ” I whimpered, voice trembling. I sniffed at him, and the _stench_ of blood almost overcame me. I swayed where I stood.

_Dammit, Toothless, do something!_

With frantic licks, I desperately tried to wipe the blood away. That would wake him up, wouldn’t it? It had _always_ worked because he hated it so much. It _had_ to work!

He didn’t stir. His breathing was uneven. He was still coated in his own blood, so much so that it was impossible to tell where it was coming from.

“ _HICCUP!_ ” I shouted this time, all but roaring in his face. “ _Please!_ ” I nudged him as hard as I dared, and his head lolled to the side.

A high-pitched whine rose from the back of my throat. I lifted my head, gathered gas in my throat, and spat a fireball into the sky. The white light outlined the bags under Hiccup’s eyes and the scratches littering his body.

“Oh, gods,” I whispered. “Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods—”

Behind me, the sound of something crashing through the undergrowth grew in intensity. I turned around just in time to see the King throwing himself through the dense woodland like a rampaging dragon.

He halted, took in the sight before him, and fell to his knees. In a mad rush, he grabbed Hiccup’s paw in his own and placed the other on Hiccup’s chest. I crouched low and stared at him with wide eyes.

“Please,” I pleaded. “Please tell me you know what to do!”

The King waited—and then drooped in relief. He pushed Hiccup’s fur back with a gentleness I thought him incapable of. Placing a light paw on Hiccup’s chest, he called, “Hiccup? Can you hear me?”

No response.

“Gods…” The King whispered. “Hiccup…” He put his head in his paw, the same despairing motion that I had seen from Hiccup not even an hour ago.

Standing there doing _nothing_ tore away at me with vicious claws. I had to do _something!_ I threw myself down, preparing a healing spell I didn’t know how to cast.

Just before making contact, my reason caught up to me and brought me to a stop. Hiccup’s human body was far different from my own now, and I knew all too well that I was no healing-dragon. I could easily make any internal damage worse by blindly throwing magic at it—especially since I didn’t know _where_ the injuries were and to what extent.

I was completely useless.

“ _I-it is fine_ ,” I stammered to Hiccup, pretending that he could hear me more for my own sanity than anything. “ _It is fine!_ ”

He didn’t even twitch. I clenched my jaw and bowed my head, no longer capable of seeing him like this, like he was moments from...

 _No!_ Help was on its way. I just had to stay calm. It would be easy. Everything would be fine. Hiccup was breathing, he was alive, he wasn’t going to die—he would _never_ leave me like that, not like this, not in such a pointless and heartless and impersonal manner, not when we had finally been finding hope in a world full of loss and…and…and—!

I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe. My heart ached as if I’d taken the blow myself.

The King clutched Hiccup to his chest. His shoulders shuddered and his breath hitched. “Please, gods…” he murmured. “Please, I—I didn’t even—”

He stopped then, chest heaving. I almost began to hiss at him for moving Hiccup around so much.

Then I took a moment to process what he was doing, and reeled back and stared wide-eyed at Hiccup’s father.

The King was weeping.

Shadows blotted out the moonlight overhead. I had barely looked up when the elder Hum-Wing tore through the canopy, took one look at Hiccup, and thumped down besides the King.

“Get on!” She commanded, throwing her head to her back.

The King stared at her—and then he leapt onto her shoulders. The moment he was settled, she was gone, using her magic to fly at dangerously-high speeds.

I was left alone.

Nausea twisted my stomach. I felt close to vomiting. I sat down, eyes unfocused, and fought for breath.

“N-no…” I wheezed. My limbs felt weighed down by an ocean’s worth of pain and regret. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t do _anything_ but sit there and be useless. “Great Dragoness of the Moon… _why?_ ”

The moment of weakness was shameful—no matter how small it was. Hiccup needed help, needed _me_ , and here I was wasting precious time.

I forced myself to my feet, shaking off the shadows pinning me down. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and focused on the comforting and familiar smell of the forest.

I began to run.

With each step, my mind cleared further and as the fear and shock lost their grip. A burning rage ignited within my heart, sweeping over me like a great tidal wave.

How...how _dare_ they?

How dare those intruders swoop upon our territory, pick a dragon at random, and attempt to _kidnap_ them? How _dare_ they fling Hiccup to his death, not even bothering to _catch_ him when it was apparent that he was _falling!_ What kind of basic intelligence and respect for life did they lack to commit such a heartless, insensitive, _pointless_ atrocity?!

If nothing else, I was going to find those dragons who did this. And I would do everything in my power to make them spend what remained of their worthless, _pathetic_ lives regretting this night.

**o.O.o**

The elders did what they could.

There was a long discussion over whether or not to utilize magic on Hiccup’s body. In the past weeks, every elder in the nest had attempted magic reconstruction spells on him, and every elder had failed. His body was unreceptive, only taking up magic slightly before rejecting it. Just as a third transformation would be, the only choice would be to shove healing-magic into his body and hope for the best.

Needless to say, nobody wanted to try it. It was decided to wait until Hiccup was conscious enough to eat healing-leaves. Even though they had failed to restore his magic in the past, the elders hoped that they could at least prevent infection with them.

Hiccup was taken to a human elder’s nest, occupied by the white-furred female whom had tended to him after the Queen’s fall. Her nest was small and could only fit myself, the King, the elder human, and the elder Hum-Wing.

There we stood watch. The sun rose and bore with it bad news. A gray, elder Little-Biter had flown all across the island in search of answers, and when she came to report to me, her head was low and her spines were drooping.

“The lost fledgling has not been found,” she rasped.

The elder Hum-Wing and I hung our heads. Then that truly meant that…

“May the Dragoness of the Moon guide her,” the Hum-Wing moaned.

The Little-Biter and I repeated the prayer. We allowed a moment of silence to pass.

With a sigh, the Little-Biter lifted her eyes to mine. “I was only able to catch the scent of one of the intruders just where the King had been taken,” she said. “I did not recognize it, but she was of another nest.” She fluttered up to the platform Hiccup had been set on and nodded at his paws.

They were noticeably covered in wounds.

“I studied the area where he crashed,” she said. “He did everything right. He must have slowed his fall by holding his legs out. The branches in the upper canopy are only partially-broken, which could only happen if he was not falling as fast as he should have been. As he fell, he must have held onto nearby branches for as long as he could—that is why these wounds are so long, and why the branches that _are_ broken are snapped at their bases rather than where his body would have fallen through them.” She frowned. “It was enough to save his life. He broke his fall long enough so that when his body impacted the branch you found him on, he was not crushed by his own weight.”

I ground my teeth and closed my eyes. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrifying that must have been. To fall into darkness, for agony to close in from all sides, only for the entire world to come to a sudden and unforgiving stop. What had he been thinking in those final moments? Had he thought that he was going to die? Had he felt the pain of it? Had he seen the unavoidable branch coming up on him, knowing that he would crash into it?

I threw the horrible, morbid thoughts aside. What mattered was that Hiccup had survived.

“I see,” the Hum-Wing mused. “Although I am surprised that he does not yet seem to be bleeding internally. An impact wound of that force surely would have broken his ribs.”

The Little-Biter approached Hiccup and took in his scent. His chest was covered in deep, swollen bruises, visible around the fake furs that the human elder had wrapped around him.

The King watched her with half-lidded eyes and a bowed head. At first he had greeted every dragon who approached Hiccup with hope—but now he had realized what little we could do.

“It was undoubtedly painful,” she growled. “There is much inflammation, but his ribcage seems merely bruised. I do not smell infection as well. Perhaps he had been limp when he crashed, or somehow slowed his fall more so than the evidence implies.”

“Was there any other oddities nearby?”

The Little-Biter bared her teeth, staring into the past. “I did smell the intruders—but the trail was weak, and so I believe it was merely their scent rubbing off of him. The cowards openly fled when they were found and did not bother to catch him after they had dropped him.”

I leaned in and pressed my forehead against Hiccup’s. He was so, so cold. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “If I had been there…”

“But you weren’t,” the Hum-Wing scolded. “Do not agonize yourself over hypotheticals, Savior.”

They were talking as if he was not severely wounded—but clearly he _was._ I laid my head down besides Hiccup’s. In a thin and small voice, I moaned, “Why isn’t he waking up?”

“His body is not yet healed,” the Hum-Wing soothed, giving me a gentle lick on the forehead like I was her hatchling. “And he is weakened by the stress he faces every day. His body must work twice as hard to heal because of it.”

The Little-Biter let out a sad hum in agreement.

“All we can do is give him time, Savior.”

**o.O.o**

My sense of time was lost, sitting there in that wood-cave.

I refused to sleep, determined to keep watch over Hiccup until he awoke. I wasn’t there for him when he had been taken, but I would be now. It was all I could do to make up for the shameful betrayal that I had inflicted upon him, leaving him at his most vulnerable and not even realizing the danger that I had left him in.

The sun set, casting the nest in darkness. With each passing moment my eyes grew heavier and my thoughts more scrambled. The day was _finally_ over, and I was falling alongside the sun, clawing with all of my might to stay but doomed to failure.

I betrayed Hiccup again.

I fell asleep as exhaustion overcame me, while he lied there and fought for his life.

**o.O.o**

“ _Toothless…?_ ”

My eyes snapped open. I launched to my feet. The King jolted with shock.

Hiccup cracked a weary grin, squinting up at me.

Oh, Dragon of the Sun, he was awake. He was _awake!_

“ _HICCUP!_ ” I sobbed. Overcome with excitement, I threw myself at him and licked him several times until he gave a groan of complaint. I settled for burying my nose into his neck, gasping and laughing at the same time.

With a weak purr, Hiccup lifted one of his torn paws and held me close. I shifted even closer to him, rubbing my cheek against him to get the horrible smell of the intruders _off_ of him.

“ _Me scared,_ ” I whimpered. “I am _never_ leaving you alone in a dark forest again.”

“ _So-rry_ ,” he said in a weak gasp, nosing me comfortingly.

When I opened my eyes, the King was staring. I stayed where I was, but still shifted around so that Hiccup could see his father.

Despite his trepidation, the King rushed forward, reached a paw out to Hiccup, and then drew it away at the last second. “Hiccup,” he gasped. “Oh, thank Thor.”

Hiccup blinked slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open. Still, he reached a paw towards his father.

The King took Hiccup’s paw in his own, a relieved smile growing on his lips. “Son…I’m so sorry.”

Hiccup smiled. “I’m just glad…to wake up,” he wheezed. He closed his eyes. “Man, déjà vu…”

His breathing evened out.

We stayed there like that for hours. The fear that had been tormenting me flowed away, and I was finally able to relax, drawing comfort in Hiccup’s presence and the steady sound of his heart.

The King adopted a deep, thoughtful expression, brooding as we waited. Like me, he was content with the silence.

Time passed. Flares continued to search, both for answers and now for the body of the lost Hum-Wing.

Nothing was found.

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

Coming to was unbearably similar to the last time I had been in this position.

Toothless clutched to me like a frightened hatchling as Dad and Gothi spoke to each other. I should have been paying attention, but I was so dazed and confused and _exhausted_ that all I could manage was to wrap my paws around Toothless.

I couldn’t see the sky or hear our nestmates in the hut. I wanted _out._

After several tries, I managed to wheeze, “Outside?”

Dad and Gothi stopped speaking abruptly.

“No,” Dad said. “You need to rest.”

Toothless growled something, leaping to my defense with a lot more vigor than normal. He pulled away and thrust his head in the direction that I assumed was the door.

Taking in a deep breath, I dug my fingers into the bed and pushed myself upright.

It _hurt._ White-hot spots burst across my eyes and my ears began to ring.

“Hiccup!” Dad scolded. In a much gentler tone, he said, “You’ve only just woken up again—give yourself a moment, alright?”

I shook my head. I had been somewhat-awake for only a few minutes, and I had already had enough of lying here with everyone hovering over me. It brought with it too many memories. It was too much like when I had first awoken into my human body, when I had first felt that searing and tormenting pain that had been making me more and more empty by the day.

Toothless pressed close to me, letting me lean on him. I pawed the blankets off of me and tried not to stare too hard at my prosthetic.

Dad stood up. “Hiccup, _stop_ ,” he said in a commanding-yet-pleading tone. “You’ll only make it worse— _agh!_ ”

Gothi swatted him with her cane. Dad gave her an admonished look, throwing his hands up at her, and she merely shook her head.

With Toothless’ support, I set my feet on the floor and stood up. A rush of nausea and white-hot pain erupted from my abdomen. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to take deep breaths.

We walked to the door at such a slow and limping pace that it must have been minutes. At some point, Dad stepped over to my other side, prepared to catch me.

He opened the door, allowing the sun to shine in. Just outside were dozens of dragons.

All of them snapped to attention—and then began to bounce around, giving joyful calls and taking off in their excitement.

The sight filled me with energy. A small smile grew on my lips. I stood up straighter and, despite the pain, managed to walk faster.

I hadn’t been outside for even a second before the elder Hum-Wing trotted over, dropped some slimy leaves in front of me, and nodded at me to eat them.

Aaand there went my hopeful mood. I grimaced and shifted unsteadily on my feet. I knew what _those_ were.

“Um…I think I’m fine,” I said. My voice was dry and noticeably cracked, and I coughed to cover it up.

Toothless narrowed an eye at me. “ _Eat!_ ” He said urgently. He stooped down, picked up the leaves, and then shoved them at me. “ _Magic. Help Hiccup!_ ”

I held the healing-leaves in my hands, flicking my eyes around for an escape. There were several elder dragons in the crowd, much more composed than the others and waiting politely for me to eat the bitter, disgusting things. The rest of our nestmates were still bouncing around, ecstatic to see that I was up and also not dead.

Dad stepped outside, staring down at the healing-leaves with a raised eyebrow.

“Are those…a gift?” He asked, thoroughly confused.

“Um...” I pretended not to see Toothless’ pressing glare. “Kind of?”

“ _Hiccup._ ” Toothless leaned in, the slightest bit of desperation shaking his voice. “ _Eat now._ ”

I knew that tone all too well; that was the “I’m about to sit on you” tone. Or, in this case, the “I’m about to force-feed you disgusting leaves that do nothing” tone. Which made no sense, because Toothless _had_ to know the healing-leaves probably wouldn’t do anything.

He was still scared for me.

I shoved the leaves into my mouth, chewed them up enough so I wouldn’t to choke on them, and swallowed. The sheer pungency of them invaded my mouth and nose, and I couldn’t help but gag and pull a face.

 _Ugh._ Well, if I was tired before, I sure wasn’t _now_.

“H-Hiccup?!” Dad spluttered.

The elders laughed. Many craned their necks and nosed me. I almost tried to thank them, but remembered that my father was standing right next to me. Instead, I smiled and nodded at them, butting heads with all who came close enough and holding down a purr.

Toothless thanked the elders, bowing to them. They returned the gesture and turned away, allowing us some space and shooing away our younger nestmates that didn’t believe in personal space.

Once they were cleared out, everything became very still. The sun was high—it was midday. It was chilly, but almost comfortably so. I leaned into Toothless, and he purred and did the same.

Gothi’s house was high up on a cliff, secluded from the rest of Berk. The only humans here were Dad and Gothi herself, who was kind enough to give privacy when it was needed and had opted to stay inside. Some nestmates were still fluttering around, trying to look nonchalant about it.

Dad was the first to break the silence. “Are you…are you hungry?”

“Not anymore,” I grumbled to Toothless, who rolled his eyes. To Dad, I said, “Those leaves were medicine. They just taste really, _really_ awful.”

“…ah,” Dad said.

The gulls squawked, and the waves crashed below.

I looked at Toothless and then at Dad. He was staring at me, and the moment I met his eyes I looked away.

“ _Ugh!_ ” Toothless groaned, having already lost his patience with the sheer awkwardness. “ _Us go!_ ”

“Um…let’s go?” I asked Dad.

He paused, frowning, and nodding.

I took a step forward.

Pain exploded across my midsection, forcing me to double-over with an agonized hiss. Both Dad and Toothless shot forward, rushing to support me. I flinched away from Dad and fell heavily on Toothless’ neck.

When it had ended, I was shaking and exhausted. Maybe forcing myself to get out of bed the second I was awake wasn’t the greatest idea.

“Y-you need to sit down,” Dad stammered. “Here, let’s go back inside.”

That was the very _last_ place I wanted to be. It was too stuffy in there, and it was so small and claustrophobic that it made me feel trapped. I wanted to be outside, where I could see the sky and hear my nestmates and feel the wind rushing past me.

“No—here,” I gasped. With Toothless’ help, I limped over to the cliff Gothi’s house was situated on. My legs gave out underneath me, and I all but crumpled to the ground just a few feet away from the edge. Toothless was quick to settle down beside me, dangling his front paws over the edge and wrapping his tail around me. I scooted close to him, and this time I _did_ let a small purr escape me.

Dad sat down on my other side, folding his hands in his lap and biting his lip.

My heart began to hammer. I stared at my hands and took in a deep breath.

“Dad—”

“Hiccup—”

“You go first,” we both said.

We blinked at each other. Dad chuckled, shaking his head. I was surprised to find myself smiling—only for it to be wiped away at the following guilt.

“I’ll go first.” Dad’s expression hardened, creased with worry and regret. His shoulders hunched and he looked at his hands, head hanging.

“I won’t bother you with my excuses,” He sighed—although he was so sullen it almost sounded like a moan. “It doesn’t matter if I thought that I was helping, or that I thought I was guiding you along to help you heal. What matters is that I made everything worse. You were right—what you said earlier, just before that monster—that dragon took you…”

He clenched his fist, and a painful spike of nervous energy whisked through my chest. I forced myself not to curl up against Toothless as if he had bared his teeth and hissed at me.

“I’m sorry, Hiccup.” He lifted his head to meet my eyes. “I’m so sorry that I was blind to how I was hurting you. I should have listened to you, or at least asked you what you wanted before acting. But instead I forced you to do as I said, thinking that it would eventually help you regain some sense of normalcy. A-and that was wrong, and I am _so sorry_ , Hiccup.” His eyes drifted over my head. “And to you as well, Toothless.”

Toothless let out surprised hum. I shared a look with him, caught off-guard to hear my father address him.

“I understand if you don’t forgive me. I don’t expect you to.” Dad’s jaw clenched, and he glared down at his hands. “Thor, I don’t _deserve_ you to, not after I’ve done so little to actually _help_ you. But…but I do want to move forward.” He straightened up and faced us, his eyes glossy. “I want to make things better, and on _your_ terms.”

His voice shook, and suddenly he sounded so much smaller and uncertain. “I want you to feel _safe_ around me, son. I know…I know it’s a horrible thing to say. I know I’ve done everything to deserve you hating me, but…Whatever it is, Hiccup—whatever it is that _you_ need, that _you_ want, please…”

He trailed off, giving me that distraught stare that he always did.

“I miss you, Hiccup.”

The pain in my chest rose and rose.

“I don’t hate you,” I whispered.

Dad took in a sharp breath. “You…don’t?”

The shock in his voice sent another torrent of guilt crashing into me. I looked away, my throat welling up and my heart hammering.

“ _Good,_ ” Toothless murmured encouragingly, nudging my shoulder.

It was enough for me to turn back towards my father and meet his eyes. I took in just how worn he looked; the dark bags under his eyes, the worry lines making him look twice his age, the deep guilt and sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t. I…”

The words caught up in my throat. So many thoughts were racing through my head that I was at a loss for words. There was just so much—there was _too_ much—and it was all too real.

I clutched at my chest.

“Something’s _wrong_ with me.”

Toothless wrapped his tail around me tighter.

Ashamed by my weakness, I looked down at my human hands and my prosthetic foot. “I-I don’t know why this keeps happening. I was fine at first, but it’s just getting worse and worse and I don’t know _why._ I want to move on, but I can’t forget, no matter how hard I try. Even the littlest reminder will just…”

I shook my head. It was bad enough as it is, but actually _talking_ about everything made me feel all the more irrational and horrible. My heart burned, and the fresh wounds across my chest stung.

“ _Go_ ,” Toothless pressed. “ _Talk good._ ”

Tears were welling up in my eyes. I was short of breath, almost like I was choking on thin air. “It keeps coming back,” I breathed. “The shadow. It’s like I’m there again. In the shed or the cave or—or on the bridge and ships and the Kill Ring…I keep—I keep feeling like it’s happening all over again, and I know it’s not real, but it _feels_ real when it happens and—and I don’t know how to make it stop! I know it won’t happen again but…”

I couldn’t bear to look at my father.

“…but you tried to kill me so many times…”

Rubbing at my eyes, I turned my head away. With a small whimper, Toothless held me even closer.

The winds swept past and the gulls cried.

“Gods…” Dad murmured.

Somehow, I found the strength to look up at him. He was pale, reeling back like I’d just twisted around and snarled at him for all I was worth. His eyes were glossy, his mouth half-parted in horror.

“ _Why?_ ” I blurted. The tears finally welled over, trailing hot streaks down my face. “I don’t know how many—how many times I _showed_ you it was me, and you just…you…you never _listened!_ ”

Toothless began licking at my face, purring small comforts. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clutching to him like he was the only thing keeping me here.

Dad lifted his hand towards me only to pull it away. Instead he reached up and took his helmet off, grasping it in his hands as tightly as I was holding onto Toothless.

“Hiccup…” Dad said, his voice shaking with regret. “I don’t…what’s the point of saying why?”

There was none—I knew that. I knew that it would only rip open these scarcely-healed wounds. I knew that it would only add one _more_ thing for me to constantly think about, to consume my thoughts and fill the nightmares that plagued me each night.

I couldn’t respond, heaving and shaking my head. Toothless held me close with the crook of his wing. He grunted and threw his head.

Dad looked torn—but he hung his head submissively.

“You’re right. You deserve to know.”

He started to speak only to stop, giving me that long, pitying look that I had come to despise.

“I thought…I thought that it was some monster taken over your body,” he murmured. “I thought that you were dead, but trapped here in this mortal world in the body of the very thing that killed you. That it was some cruel trick of the gods, to have it pretend to be like you.”

He focused on the helmet—and then flung it aside, where it clattered away.

“I let myself become consumed with hatred. Hatred at the gods, at the dragons, at the monster that I thought had taken you from me, that was tormenting me by acting like you.” His voice broke, and he put his head in his hands. “But I was _wrong._ It _was_ you, and with each sign, I pushed back harder—because it would mean that you were still there, that you were suffering, and I...”

Dad took in a long, shuddering breath, struggling to compose himself.

“I was a fool, and you paid the price for it when you needed me the most, and not a _day_ goes by that I don’t curse myself to Hel for it. Men like me do not deserve a place in Valhalla.” He dropped his voice. “Men like me do not deserve forgiveness. I’m sorry, son.

“I am so sorry that even to this day, I am still failing you.”

My heart burned. I was shaking and lightheaded. I couldn’t see, my eyes were so blurred with tears.

I pushed myself upright and blindly reached out.

There was a pause—and then two huge, warm arms wrapped around me and pulled me in.

I froze. It took several second’s worth of processing to figure out what had happened.

Dad was…hugging me? He hadn’t done that since…since…

...since Mom died.

Closing my eyes, I leaned into him—not quite ready to return the gesture—and struggled to control my tears. “I’m sorry I—I’ve been avoiding you,” I hiccupped.

“Oh, son…” Dad’s voice trembled, and he hugged me tighter.

“I gave you no other choice.”


	7. Chapter 7

Hiccup

_What could we do, if we couldn’t fly?_

Fall.

We would only ever be able to fall.

The thought weighed me down as the days passed, filling me with a sense of unease and incompleteness—leaving in its wake just as much an empty space as my prosthetic leg did.

A week went by, each day blurring seamlessly into the next. Both Toothless and Dad endlessly pestered me to take it easy. My wounds began to heal, and soon I was able to walk around without needing too much support.

Each sting of pain was a reminder of that night. Of me giving up, of the heart-stopping free-fall into blackness, of the horrible feeling of knowing I was going to die.

It was my fault. Dad and Toothless disagreed with me, but I had given up.

My only option was to move forward. I had to keep going, because if I sat around and wallowed in it for too long, it would consume me.

The thought sent a shudder through me. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, mulling over it until it wore me down. I had to keep working. I had to keep trying.

Especially because...

I glanced over from my schematics and leatherwork at Dad. He was standing off to the side and speaking with Gobber, sending a glance my way every once and awhile like he thought that I would leave.

Ever since we had finally talked, he hadn’t let me out of his sights. It was like any moment now, another intruding dragon would swoop down and carry me off. Which…wasn’t too much of a stretch, considering that the intruders had come out of _nowhere._

Dad being nearby didn’t scare me as much as I thought it would. He always kept his distance, never approaching without checking with me first. He took every measure to exert an air of gentleness around Toothless and me, making every movement intentional and non-threatening.

This lifted tension between us I hadn’t even realized was there—Dad acknowledging that he was genuinely _scary_ to be around and taking steps to fix it. He was trying to be more understanding, he wasn’t going on about “getting back to normal” anymore, he wasn’t forcing us to go to the forge. He was mostly just...there.

Dad sticking around all the time threw weak ropes over a gap I’d almost forgotten was there. In the past weeks, we’d almost completely stopped talking to each other unless we were forced to—well, unless _Dad_ forced me to. But now that break between us was less daunting, and we could just...chat.

It wasn’t the draining, emotional conversations about our feelings or how awful our lives were, but just _stuff_. Day-to-day activities, the weather, dragon culture, what’s for dinner, anything. It was painfully awkward sometimes, since it was really just small talk. Still, once I had gotten accustomed to constantly talking to my father, I actually started to miss it when we went for long stretches without saying a word.

It wasn’t a magical fix. It didn’t stop the fear completely. There were still times when Toothless and I had to sneak off for an escape. There were still times when Dad raised his voice, or made a sudden movement towards me, or tried to touch me. There were still moments where he made it blatantly obvious that he _did not_ like how dragon I still was.

But it was a start.

Dad was trying to fix things between us— _had_ been trying for weeks now. It was time that I did, too. I wouldn’t get better if I didn’t, even if I had to throw myself out of my comfort zone. Which led me straight to the _one_ place I’d never thought I’d want to go back to.

With everything that had happened, I’d returned to the smithy not because I was being dragged by my tail there, but because I actually _wanted_ to.

I had been toiling away at such a frustratingly-slow pace that I’d almost considered giving up on my projects. My hands were still clumsy, and fine-tuning anything could take hours when it used to only take a few minutes. Many sleepless nights had been spent here, slumped against my workbench, measuring and scribbling and scrapping ideas in the dim firelight with Toothless watching at my side.

It was _so_ frustrating how slow I was, how even the simplest things were now a challenge. Sometimes I would catch a stupid mistake and have to spend hours correcting it. Or sometimes I would have to focus so hard on making sure my fingers moved the _right_ way that my head would throb.

The only thing keeping me going was blind stubbornness, the drive to do _something_ other than sit around and wait to see if anything worse would happen. It was crazy and it probably wouldn’t work, but actually doing something about all of our problems gave me the drive to keep trying. It was far from perfect—but so was I, and at least I was trying. I wasn’t going to let myself be useless anymore.

I wasn’t going to stand back while intruders invaded our territory and little fledglings were lost at sea.

My hand jerked uncontrollably to the side, knocking a pencil to the ground. Toothless got it for me, set it down on my bench, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“ _What this?_ ” He exclaimed for the fifth time that day, pointing the human way at my work. “ _Need know!_ ”

“ _Need wait_ ,” I teased in dragon. Then, remembering Dad and Gobber were right there, “I told you, it’s a surprise. Also, I’m not sure I’ll even be able to _do_ it…”

“Hmf!” Toothless tutted. “ _Hiccup good and smart._ _Toothless certain this good!_ ”

“Aw, thanks,” I said. “I’m still not telling you.”

“ _Hic-cup!_ ” Toothless whined like a fledgling being told to go to sleep, complete with lying down and rolling around. “ _Speak Toothless! Very important!”_

“ _No!_ ” I laughed. “Besides, I’m almost done with this one anyways.”

“Are ya now?” Gobber interrupted. He peered over at my cluttered desk. “Then I suppose you’ll actually start workin’ on our orders after yer little heart project? We only have so much leather, ya know!”

“Didn’t you buy some more from Trader Johann?” Dad piped up from halfway across the room.

“Sure did!” Gobber said. “Not the point! When are ya goin’ ta show us what this thing here really is?”

I grimaced. I’d wanted it to be a secret from them—but that was almost impossible, considering that Gobber practically lived at the smithy and Dad was shadowing me everywhere.

“I’m still not sure,” I said, trying to cover up my schematics and the leather with a sore hand. “It’s hard to say, since I’ve been so slow at it.”

“You’ve still done very well, Hiccup,” Dad said. “You’ve adjusted much faster than I thought you would.”

I ducked my head, a light blush rising to my cheeks. “Uh, thanks. Just kinda doing my best.”

“And apparently using up all the leather,” Dad said in a trying-to-joke tone of voice.

“Heh. Yeah…” I glanced at Gobber and pretended not to see his unamused look. “At least it’s for a good cause?”

“Which is…?” Dad pressed.

“Uh...you’ll see?” I said—although I almost didn’t want him to. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be as supportive if he knew what I was working on and _why_ I was doing it in the first place.

Toothless groaned, throwing his head back in the most dramatic way possible. “ _Need know!_ ”

“Well...Toothless looks like...he wants to know?” Dad almost asked, struggling to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, well, Toothless can wait until I’m done,” I said, grinning at my brother as he sent me a glare.

“Then fer the sake of all of us, get workin’!” Gobber interjected. “I noticed ya even managed to sew earlier this mornin’. Keep it up!”

He offered me a hearty slap on the back and tottered away. I winced, and  Toothless sat up straighter and sent him a look.

“By the way, Stoick, got any messenger pigeons this mornin’?” Gobber drawled.

There was a short silence as Dad and I shared a confused look.

“...what?” Dad asked. “No, why?”

“ _Really?_ ” Gobber drew the word out. “No threats? No demands for us to send our _finest_ diplomats to other islands?”

“Ah, I see,” Dad said. “No. I’ve not heard word from the Bog Burglars or any other tribe regarding dragon raids. Not since the note we received from Trader Johann.”

“Hah!” Gobber laughed. “So they were all bark and no bite, eh? Well, can’t say I’m surprised…”

Gobber glanced over and caught me slacking off.

“Well, are ya gonna work or not?!” He demanded. “The longer ya wait, the longer I have to finish all of this work on my own!”

“Uh, r-right!” I said, sitting up straighter. I shifted around in my seat and blinked down at my work. What had I been doing last again?

Toothless tried to nose underneath it—he knew I was hiding something there, too. With a playful hiss, I poked his nose until he retreated.

“ _Toothless need know_ ,” he grumbled, like _not_ knowing was killing him.

“ _Soon_ ,” I murmured. A small frown settled on my lips. “Or, at least, I hope.”

**o.O.o**

It turned out that “soon” was actually “two days”. I guess that wasn’t too bad, all things considered.

“So...dragons don’t like being named?” Dad clarified, sitting a small distance away from me and eyes bright with confusion and interest. The firelight from our candles flickered, casting long shadows into the twilight darkness of the forge.

“Well, not exactly,” I said without looking up, focusing almost all of my concentration on my needle. “It’s more like...you have to _earn_ your name by doing something important. So it’s a big respect thing, like how older dragons are much more respected than younger dragons.”

“What did you do to get ‘Toothless’?”

I looked up just in time to see Toothless roll his eyes and point at me the human way. I actually let out a small laugh.

“Oh, that was me,” I said. “He really hated it at first. Always going on about how he wasn’t toothless and then calling me things like ‘freckles’ and ‘browny’ and ‘shorty’ and ‘lazy’.”

“ _Lazy?_ ” Dad repeated in disbelief.

“Toothless thinks you should be wide awake at the crack of dawn,” I said, sending him a fake glare. “Sleep is for the weak, apparently.”

“ _No, Hiccup need sleep_ ,” Toothless grumbled.

“Uhuh, _now_ you change your mind,” I whined.

Toothless quirked a brow, wrapping his tail nice and neat around his paws.

Dad flicked his eyes between us, biting his lip. A short, awkward silence passed. I readjusted my grip on the needle, trying to keep it still and the thread from tangling in my shaking hands.

“So...do they call him...do they call you ‘Toothless’?” Dad asked. “The dragons?”

Toothless shook his head. “ _No._ ”

“They have their own name for us,” I said “They call us Saviors. It means—ah, shoot.”

The needle dropped to the floor with a small _tink._ I sighed, easing myself over to get it.

Lightning crackled through my body. My hands flew to my abdomen, and I couldn’t hold down a pained hiss.

“ _Hiccup?_ ” Toothless yelped. He rushed over, sniffing at me and humming anxiously.

“I’m fine—just sore,” I eased, leaning against him. “Really.”

Toothless wasn’t buying it—but before he could say anything, Dad stood up.

“Here—let me help,” He said. He took a step forward, then stopped himself. “Or… do you mind…?”

I nodded, and he made his way through the cramped hall to stoop down and pick up the needle. The small work area became even smaller, cramped and dark and claustrophobic. Dad offered the needle to me, looming overhead in the dim candlelight.

I hesitated a second too long, my heart skipping a beat as the feeling of being trapped bore down on me.

A sad kind of resignation made his eager expression drop. His shoulders slumped.

Guilt swept through me. I forced myself to reach out to him, even as my hand shook like I hadn’t eaten in days. Our hands brushed together, and I flinched away completely on impulse.

Dad did a good job at hiding the pain this caused him, brushing himself off and shuffling back to his seat. Toothless pressed close to me. I focused my eyes on the needle and leatherwork.

“...sorry,” I finally managed to get out, trying and failing to keep my frustration from turning my voice sharp.

“No, Hiccup,” Dad said, although he sounded forlorn. “It’s fine.”

I sighed, fiddling around with the needle and glancing at him with the corner of my eye. “Alright.”

“Alright,” Dad said.

More silence. Toothless groaned with exasperation.

“So...they call you two...‘Saviors’?” Dad tried.

I nodded, working the needle back into place. “Yeah. It’s because of the whole...Queen thing. And the soulfire—I mean, the glowing thing that...happened.”

“I’ve always wondered about that,” Dad murmured. He straightened up, awkwardness gone. “What was that, anyways? I’ve never seen dragons glow like that, no less lose their shot limit.”

My hand was so stiff and tense that I couldn’t even sew. I took a deep breath. _Gods, Hiccup, relax._

Toothless nosed my shoulder. The tension locking me in place eased somewhat.

“Soulfire is a form of magic called soul-magic,” I explained, forcing the needlework along. “We don’t really know much about it. All we know is that it can only be given to you by the gods. Like, a dragon can’t just learn it on their own—they need a god to show them or another dragon who knows it to show them. So that means you have to be careful when you use it, because it’s the fire of the gods and not just your regular, run-of-the-mill magic. If you abuse it...”

I thought of the tale of Sphere and shook my head.

“It’s from the gods?” Dad repeated. “Which ones? Glöð? Logi?”

“ _What?_ ” Toothless said incredulously.

“Well...none of _those_ gods,” I stammered, glancing nervously up at Dad. “I meant...well...you remember what I told you about the dragon gods, right?”

He nodded uncertainly. “The...Sunshine Dragon and Moonshine Dragon?”

Toothless was _not_ having that, and corrected vehemently, “ _Dragon of the Sun! Dragoness of the Moon! Stupid!_ ”

I pressed against him with a soft purr, and he calmed down enough to _not_ yell at my father.  “ _Anyways_ , it’s _their_ magic,” I ground out, trying to push the conversation along. I finished my stitch, and began the whole new struggle of tying it in place.

Dad took my explanation in with an odd kind of expression. He’d seen it with his own eyes, he knew it was real, and yet he still looked disbelieving.

“...Hiccup,” he eventually said, worried now. “You...still believe in our gods, right? In Valhalla?”

The string knotted into place. I froze like prey, like if I held completely still, then I could avoid the question and all of its implications altogether.

“ _No!_ ” Toothless grunted dismissively. “ _Stupid human._ ”

“Hiccup?” Dad pressed, the tension in his voice rising.

“U-uh—” I stuttered. “Well…I...I literally _met_ them, Dad, and…”

And I’d always felt the Norse gods hated me, that they enjoyed watching me suffer. In my time wrapped up in the Queen’s shadow, I’d found empathy and comfort in the Dragon of the Sun and Dragoness of the Moon.

One look at Dad’s shell-shocked, saddened eyes, and I didn’t dare say it to him.

_RING! RING! RING! RING!_

All three of us yelped and jumped in place. The needle dropped to the floor.

The bell of Town Hall. It was ringing. It had a lamentful echo, like it was chiming in on the tense conversation here in the forge.

I went completely rigid, staring out the window into the bleak darkness. The bell ringing at this time of night wasn’t exactly good news. My heart hammered as my mind flew through possibilities, each one more worse and apocalyptic as the last.

Dad had stood up the moment he’d heard the bells, staring out the window with a stern glare. “Don’t worry,” he said, no longer my worried father but the Chief of Berk. “I’ll go see what’s happened. Stay here until we know it’s safe.”

Toothless and I looked at each other. Toothless had his jaw set and ears drawn back in defiance; now he wanted to leave _specifically_ because Dad told us not to. The pressing conversation on religion probably wasn’t doing Dad any favors as well.

“Um…” I said.

Dad sighed. “Just...don’t wander off too far. You’re still injured, Hiccup.”

I certainly didn’t need any reminders. “Alright,” I said. I started to speak up, only to hesitate. I wanted to say something before he left. Not apologize, but to reach out to him in _some way._

“Alright,” Dad said. He swiveled around, stumbling through the dark forge as he tried to make it to the door.

“Dad—” I stopped him. “I…”

Even in the shadowy forge, the candlelight still shone bright enough for me to see his small, sad grin. “Don’t worry,” he said again. “I...I can see why you...if that makes you happy, Hiccup, then...” He grimaced for a short moment, shuffled around, and steadied himself. “But, anyways. I still want you to stay here. Alright?”

I was too busy rearing in shock to respond right away. “A-alright.”

He wasted no more time, sprinting out of the forge and down the road towards the docks. Toothless and I poked our heads out the window, leaning out almost completely into the street to watch him go. In the darkness of dusk, it didn’t take too long for him to disappear.

The _second_ he was out of sight, Toothless said, “ _Us go there._ ”

I didn’t say anything, frowning into the darkness my father had sprinted into. “Was that the right thing to say?” I murmured. “What if it’s something bad, and that’s the last thing we ever talk about, or…”

“ _It is fine_ ,” my brother purred, pulling his wing over me as if it shield me. “ _That talk…_ ” He shook his head. “ _Very hard.”_

I peered into the streets as the bell rang. “Yeah,” I eventually got out. “Definitely not how I wanted to break the news to him.”

Toothless tried to hide it, but he drooped with relief. “ _Yes! Ah, yes_ ,” he corrected himself in as neutral a tone he could, clearing his throat for good measure. “ _Father good. Toothless surprised._ ”

“ _Me too,_ ” I tried to say. The very idea made guilt curl through me. Time and time again, I always caught myself assuming the worst of Dad. The simplest kind or understanding acts caught me off-guard.

I was such an idiot.

I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. I couldn’t let myself get stuck in this loop. In a not-so-subtle change of subject, I said, “But...you’re right. We should go. We can’t just stand around in here and wait, and this is almost done, anyways.”

Toothless perked up. “ _What?!_ ” He gasped. “ _You speak? Toothless know?_ ” He began nudging my paws towards my leatherwork. “Yes! _Many sun no Toothless know! Toothless very very interested!_ _Why surprise?_ ”

I began to struggle to my feet, trying to say the word for ”because”. Even _I_ could tell that it came out garbled and wrong.

“ _No certain_ ,” I tried instead.

“ _Certain_ ,” Toothless corrected slowly, pressing close so that I could lean on him.

“ _C-e-r-t-a-i-n_ ,” I repeated.

Toothless nodded exuberantly. I grinned, a lightness filling my chest even as the ringing went on and villagers were drawn outside.

“ _No certain good_ ,” I went on. Hours and hours and _hours_ had been spent slaving over my projects. Now that they were almost done, it was a little scary to think that it might have all been for nothing. That I had just screwed up again.

“ _Stupid_ ,” Toothless scolded. “ _Me certain this good. Hiccup here many sun and moon._ ”

I focused back out the window, at the occasional villager who rushed past to see what was happening. “ _Need work_ ,” I mumbled. I eased up onto his shoulders, wincing at the ache and sting of my abdomen.

“ _Work,_ ” Toothless sounded out as he boosted me up.

“ _Work?_ ”

“ _No, w-o-r-k!_ ”

“ _...work?”_

“ _Hiccup speak like fledgling!_ ” Toothless teased, trying to cheer me up.

Something heavy hit the roof hard, sending vibrations rattling throughout the entire building.

A dragon popped their head in through the window—the young, excitable Flame-Skin that had been part of our original flare. His eyes were wide, and he was so out of breath that he could barely get any words out.

I heard the word for “ _human_ ” or “ _dragon_ ”, and he threw his head in the direction Dad had gone in as he said it.

“ _Human there,_ ” Toothless translated for me, pinning his ears and growling. “ _No Berk nest, no Berk human._ ”

My heart dropped to my chest, even though it was something that I had expected, that I had almost been waiting to happen for days now. Now that it was real, I was all too aware of how unprepared I was.

“Oh, no,” I breathed.

“ _Us go?_ ” Toothless asked, shifting uneasily. He bared his teeth in the general direction of the docks, tail swishing back and forth.

“Yeah,” I said. “A-and also, we need to tell our nestmates to stay clear—we don’t want any of them down there.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Toothless agreed. He turned to the excitable Flame-Skin and relayed the order.

The Flame-Skin’s eyes widened in fear. He chirped nervously in understanding, bowed, and darted into the deepening night sky. A few seconds later, and he let out a booming leading call.

Toothless started to turn around to leave, but my eyes fixated on my work. On impulse, I snapped a paw out and grabbed my leatherwork just before I lost my chance.

We darted out of the smithy as our nestmates fled in the opposite direction. Several saw us and banked to join us, and it was all we could do to wave them off to safety. After the incident with the lost fledgling, where we had failed as their leaders, it was the least we could do.

The village swept by in a dark blur, making it seem completely empty save for the hollow, foreboding song of the bells.

**o.O.o**

At a glance, the docks looked seconds from being overtaken.

Firelight glinted off the sickly-black waves. Moonlit ocean spray crashed high, threatening to overtake the ships entering the bay.

I saw the insignias on their sails and took in a sharp, pained breath. A world long-since lost overtook my senses. I could feel my wings, my tail, my claws, my fire—I could hear the screams, smell the blood, taste the charcoal and smoke in the air.

“ _Hiccup?_ ” Toothless crooned, drawing me out of my stupor. He twisted around to get a better view of me. “ _It is fine._ ”

“ _Y-yes_ ,” I said. I sat up straighter and inhaled deeply. “ _It is fine_ ,” I repeated, like if I said it then it would come true. “ _It is fine._ ”

“ _Hiccup okay. Toothless here._ ” Toothless pressed up against me as best as he could. “ _Toothless_ always _here._ ”

“ _Love_ ,” I hummed.

We took a moment.

Then we slunk off into the shadows, creeping along the western edges of the buildings to keep out of the dim moonlight. Ever-so-slowly, Toothless stalked closer and closer to the sheer cliff that lead down to the docks.

I spotted a relatively-empty area away from the houses. Chirping a short leading call, I pointed with my nose. Toothless followed my gaze and slid to the ground, crawling over the grass so that he was less noticeable. We stopped just at the edge of the cliff and leaned over it, taking in the other tribes’ ships.

To come in the middle of the night without sending word was already a bad sign. There was scarcely any firelight—also a bad sign. That meant that they were trying to keep their night vision undulled. Without fire, their sight would be more adjusted to the dark—meaning that it would be easier to spot enemies.

…or dragons.

A rush of relief went through me that the young Flame-Skin had warned us in time. It was hard to tell whether the people on the ships had seen our nestmates, but they definitely wouldn’t now.

I could also make out the little pinpricks of torches from the people of Berk climbing down to the docks, and the vague shapes of other humans on board the ships. Some ships had large masses on them, but besides that, I couldn’t make them out.

“ _What see?_ ” I asked Toothless.

“ _Human_ ,” he growled. “ _Many, many human. Many weapon. Very strange…_ ” He waved his paw in a short circle, a habit he’d picked up from me. “ _No word. There, big and strange._ ”

“ _Yes, me see_ ,” I whispered. “ _See father?_ ”

A pause, and then, “ _Yes. Speak human. No weapon._ ”

I gave a small sigh of relief. Toothless checked further down the cliff, gave a soft warning, and leapt a small ways down to an outcropping. Just before landing, he opened his wings and flapped to soften the impact. The jolt still sent pain zipping through me, but it was tolerable.

Three more times we slipped down the cliffside, stopping and waiting long moments to avoid catching attention. By the third jump, we were a little under halfway down the cliff, close to the sea stacks that rose from the ocean around Berk. Toothless bundled his legs up, opened his wings, and launched himself at them as silently and quickly as he could.

We landed hard. I hissed as pain shot through my abdomen and I lurched to the side, nearly slipping off of Toothless.

“ _Sorry!_ ” Toothless gasped, his eyes huge with horror and ears and side-frills pinned. “ _No know—sorry!_ ”

“ _It is fine_ ,” I groaned. I righted myself, pressing myself closer to him to hang on tighter. “ _Hear father?_ ”

Toothless hummed, perking his ears and facing towards the ships.

The docks were fuller now. It was now easy to make out the forms of humans, even those without torches. There were seven intruding ships in total.

Three had catapults on them.

The sight made my breath hitch. They were primed, already loaded and set to fire. They were the objects that Toothless hadn’t had the word for.

“ _No hear,_ ” Toothless whispered. He half-opened his wings and looked over his shoulder. “ _Ready?_ ”

I nodded. Toothless leapt onto another sea stack, slipped, and bore his claws into its side. My entire body jolted, and I bit back a pained yelp and held on tighter. With a curse, Toothless scrambled up onto its peak.

Spots filled my vision from the pain of moving around so much. I wheezed and clutched at my stomach, and Toothless murmured hushed apologies to me for jostling around so much. I waved him off and pointed back down at the docks.

This stack was much lower than the others, bringing us close enough even for _me_ to hear people talking. There was also an odd humming sound, like a kind of buzzing.

It was almost familiar.

Now that we were so low and more people had brought torches with them, it only took me a few seconds to glance around and find Dad. He had intercepted the only ship that had dared to come close enough to anchor at our docks. He wasn’t wielding any weapons. He had his arms crossed and was speaking to the captain of the ship, who had yet to lay down any planks to get onto Berk.

“ _Who?_ ” Toothless asked. “ _Father upset. Human scared._ ”

I forced myself to look at the insignias, although I didn’t really have to at this point. “The Bog Burglars,” I whispered. “The ones who think we’re causing the raids.”

Toothless bared his teeth and growled. “ _Stupid human._ ”

Dad and the captain continued to speak. The captain looked a lot more angry than she was scared, raising her voice and throwing her arms around. Every now and then, her crewmates would pipe up to agree with her.

Dad didn’t budge under the peer pressure, leering at the outsiders. I could just barely hear him speaking—he was making sure to keep his voice low so that he would appear calm and cool.

“ _Want here_ ,” Toothless explained. “ _Need help. Dragon attack home. Think us._ ”

“Need help, or _demanding_ help?” I asked. The Norse felt unnatural rolling off my tongue.

“ _That_ ,” he growled. “ _Father no want. Hm, that good._ ”

Dad took a few steps back. The captain turned and shouted to her crew to set their anchors down, and at the same time, one of her crewmates grabbed a plank and dropped it right onto our docks.

The Bog Burglars stepped onto Berk, weapons holstered and eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“ _…oh. Ah, bad_ ,” Toothless muttered. “ _Why here? Why no go?_ ”

I hummed in confusion, watching as the ships were brought in and docked in any place they could. One by one, each crew stepped onto Berk’s docks and made their way towards the village, escorted by twice as many of Berk’s warriors.

I sucked in a deep breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. They weren’t here to fight. They weren’t attacking us. We were safe, for now.

The docks were almost silent now; the Bog Burglars had all been taken up towards Berk, most likely to stay the night in Town Hall where they could be closely watched. Our surroundings, once bustling and full of brilliant firelight, were now empty and dark. The ships creaked and moaned. The ocean’s inky waters churned beneath them.

That strange humming was still there. I squinted at the sails of the Bog Burglar’s ship, trying to find which one was catching in the wind to make such a weird sound.

All of them were closed.

“ _Hear that?_ ” I asked, tipping my head back and forth. What _was_ it?

“ _T-h-a-t_ ,” Toothless corrected automatically. Just like me, he tilted his head to try and find the source. “ _And yes. Strange. Like me know, and no me know?_ _Us see?_ ”

I hummed in agreement. Toothless opened his wings and lifted off of the sea stack, gliding the short distance down to the docks. He went out of his way to flap several times to cushion our landing, even though it made a _lot_ of noise.

We crept along the isolated walkways, keeping our attention trained on the ships. I sniffed at the air but could only catch the saltiness of the ocean. The sound seemed to be coming from all directions, and yet nowhere. Unease filled me as my senses failed me, leaving me blind and deaf and vulnerable.

Toothless picked a random ship to investigate and hesitated at the plank.

“ _Toothless?_ ” I crooned.

“… _no like,_ ” he admitted. Hanging his head, he said with barely-masked fear, “ _These always bad._ ”

“ _It is fine_ ,” I soothed, hugging him and purring. “ _No need go._ ”

“ _Oh, us go!_ ” Toothless said defiantly, puffing his chest up. He stepped shakily onto the plank with his head high, and I couldn’t hold back an eyeroll.

We climbed aboard and found a whole lot of nothing.

“ _What these?_ ” Toothless asked, nosing something on the ground.

I leaned over, holding my side to try and dull the pain. “Oars. They move the ship.” Looking around the deck, I frowned when I saw that that was _all_ that was aboard. This ship was a simple, flat longboat.

However, the captain’s ship a little further off _did_ have a large enough hull to have a cabin below, considering how big and tall it was. I spared a short moment to wonder _why_ they had such a big, expensive ship. It looked more like what Trader Johann traveled with than a warship. If they were as low on resources as Dad made them out to be, there was no way they could have made one themselves…right?

“ _There?_ ” I pointed.

Toothless nodded. He crouched and opened his wings, bracing himself to leap to the next ship over—and then stopped himself. “ _Ah, sorry!_ ”

“ _Stupid_ ,” I teased as he took the “human way” off the ship, walking down the plank and across the dock.

Now that the ships seemed safe and even boring, Toothless was much more confident. He stepped right onto the captain’s ship like he owned it. This ship had two sails and an elevated spying platform, with holes on the port and starboard for men below-deck to oar.

The humming was louder now. It had a sad, empty quality to it—it reminded me of the bell on Town Hall.

Toothless nearly put his nose to the deck, his ears and side-frills twitching.

“ _There?_ ” I wondered.

Toothless didn’t respond.

“ _Toothless?_ ” I asked, leaning over to look at his face.

He was staring, transfixed, at the deck. I grabbed hold of one of his side-frills. He jolted in place and snapped his head over at me.

“ _S-sorry_ ,” he stammered, and the shaken way he said it whisked away any sense of safety I’d managed to scrounge together.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded, abandoning speaking in dragon for more clarity. “Are you okay?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes below. Baring his teeth, he growled, “ _No like. Me no know this. Like Queen, and no like Queen. This bad!_ ”

I stiffened. “The Queen…?”

Closing my eyes, I reached inside myself again in desperate search of my magic. As always, I came upon an empty husk, a shell of what had once been full of life and light, a broken link. It was pure nothingness and incompleteness. It was a giant hole inside me, sucking me away bit by bit.

There was no shadow. I relaxed a bit.

“No, it can’t be the Queen,” I reminded the both of us. “She’s dead. We _watched_ her die.”

Toothless growled. “ _Me do not know…_ ” He began wandering around the deck, sniffing at the ground and perking his ears.

The humming was ever-present. What had once been something that only piqued my interest was now sinister, and I bared my teeth in a silent growl.

I didn’t know what it was, but I wanted it _off_ of our island.

“ _There_ ,” I said, pointing at a door that had to lead below deck. Toothless stomped over to it and, with a single swing, smashed the door in. “ _Toothless!_ ”

“ _What? Hiccup no like sound and human_ ,” he snickered.

“Oh, Dragoness of the Moon,” I moaned.

Toothless poked his head in and sniffed. His entire body tensed and he flared his wings.

“ _Dragon!_ ” He cried. “ _Dragon here!_ ”

I sat up straight and rigid, my heart picking up painfully in my chest.

But…but _why? Why_ would there be dragons below deck? Why would the tribe that was demanding that we get _rid_ of the dragons capture them and keep them close?

It didn’t matter. They would be free soon anyways—we would make sure of that.

Toothless called out to them in normal dragon: a hushed greeting followed by a question, asking them if they were alright.

No voices rose to meet him. The humming surrounding us continued undisturbed.

That…made it worse. We shared a confused, frightened look, and the both of us steeled ourselves. Toothless stepped into the cramped, dark doorway.

“What is that?!”

We froze. Toothless muttered an obscenity.

Ever so slowly, we twisted around—and were met with the sight of two men whom I did not recognize. One was wielding an axe, and the other a bow and arrow. Even in the dim light, both of them were shaking with huge, terrified eyes.

They took us in. Realization seemed to dawn on them.

“N-N-Night Fury,” one stammered, his voice rising in panic. “I-it’s a N-Night Fury, it’s really a Night Fury!”

“ _Go, go, go!_ ” I hissed to Toothless, who had steadied into a battle stance.

He used his crouched position to his advantage and leaped straight up. By the time he landed on the second sail and clambered up it, the men were shouting for help. More voices began to ring around the docks. My old injuries burned to life, but still I whipped my head around to try and figure out what was happening.

For some reason, some of the Bog Burglars had returned to their ships…only to witness us snooping around on them.

“Not good,” I muttered, finding it harder and harder to breathe as reality set in. “We gotta—”

“KILL IT!” A man screamed. “Kill it, before it curses us!”

Toothless yelped and leapt off of the ship just as an arrow whizzed overhead. He glided and slammed into the top of the sail on the adjacent ship, making it rock back and forth so violently that it nearly capsized. I cried out as agony tore through my midsection, nearly losing my grip and falling.

More arrows flew overhead. Toothless gave a sharp whine as one struck him, but kept bouncing from sail to sail as fast as he could. In just a few seconds, he had reached the sea stacks and launched onto one, just barely missing the top and scurrying onto it.

I struggled to breathe as each sudden movement sent a wave of pain into my body. The shouting was rising in volume, the sound of arrows being strung and let loose becoming more and more regular.

It was just like last time—we were being hunted—we were trapped—! Phantom pain tore through wings that I no longer had, through a body that I longed for. The cave blinked out as more and more of Berk’s soldiers charged in, heeding my father’s command. We were going to die, here in this cold and dark place, with nowhere to go and no strength to carry on—

Toothless smacked into another sea stack, launching me back into the present. I gritted my teeth and blinked rapidly, forcing myself to stay _here._

We were on top of the tallest sea stack. There was a crowd of roughly ten men and women below, shooting arrow after arrow up at us. Toothless had scampered to its far end and was nearly hanging off of it, ducking just out of range—but we were trapped. The moment we tried to glide down to the docks or to the cliff, we’d be sitting ducks.

“ _Hiccup okay?_ ” Toothless wheezed.

“ _Y-yes,_ ” I gasped, although I still felt like I couldn’t breathe for more reasons than one. “ _You okay?_ ”

Toothless tossed his head dismissively. “ _Me okay._ ”

I checked over him and let out a sharp cry. He was _not_ okay; he had an arrow embedded in his leg!

The sight filled me with horror and rage and terror. This was _our_ territory, and these humans had been the ones to show up unannounced.

I lifted myself up higher on Toothless’ back, raised my hands into the air, and shouted in Norse, “ _STOP!_ ”

At the same time, a voice from farther away cried, “FIRE!”

There was a frozen heartbeat when I saw a burst of fire erupt on a ship, heard the crunching swing of the catapult, and saw its flaming load rocketing towards us. Toothless rushed to his feet and sprung straight up into the air, flapping for all that he was worth.

It was too late—the flaming rock smashed into the sea stack, shattering it underneath us and sending debris flying in all directions. The heat was so intense that it filled Toothless’ wings and sent us spiraling up and away.

Toothless tried to gain some sense of control, swinging his tail and angling his wings, but it was all too much. The wind smacked against us while the updraft forced us backwards. My vision blacked out with pain as the world lurched to and fro.

In seconds it was overwhelming, and Toothless flipped completely over midair. At the same time, some debris smacked directly into my side.

I screamed in agony.

And for the first time, I fell off of Toothless.

My insides lurched with the beginnings of freefall. Toothless let out a shriek of horror, and his crippled tail swung just past me as he fought to realign himself.

In the pain and confusion of it all, my mind flashed back to that moment just over a week ago, when I’d been dropped to my fate—to my death. I bared my teeth, squinting into the shadows.

I wasn’t going to be useless anymore.

Pulling my legs in, I looped my wrists through the clumsily-sewn bands at my ankle and the tip of my prosthetic. The agony of the movement was almost consuming.

_Come on, come on, come on…_

I wrenched my arms back.

My wings snapped open.

And I didn’t fall.

Despite the arrows, despite the fire, despite my wounds, despite that I was still dozens of feet up into the air, I couldn’t stop the moment from overtaking me. I let out a heartfelt laugh, even as I glided right towards our attackers and back into danger.

In that moment, I didn’t feel empty anymore. I felt _whole_. The joy of it left me breathless. I was _me_ again!

And then my wounds caught up with me. I flinched, and the movement folded my wings in. The air underneath me immediately transformed from a cushion to an angry downwards force, dragging me back down to earth.

I angled myself towards the docks and tried to pull up, but there was no time, I was moving too fast!

I crashed into the docks.

Hard.

**o.O.o**

Toothless

What?

_What?!_

I had but a moment to baffle over how Hiccup had managed to _sprout wings_ before I slapped directly into the ocean. The water was almost solid on impact, stinging every single scale and threatening to tear through my delicate wings and tailfins.

The ocean was dark, sucking out the light from above like a shadow. There was only bleakness and emptiness in all directions, no matter how hard I strained to find the light. I knew, logically, that I was sinking—but when I clawed in the direction I thought was “up”, I was only sucked further into the nothingness.

My heart hammered. I stopped moving to spare what precious energy and oxygen I had left.

 _Stay calm! Stay calm!_ I told myself. _Find the light!_

Where there was light, there was Hiccup. And where Hiccup was right now, there were humans. Humans were _loud_. If I could just find them.. _._

Closing my eyes, I lifted my ears and side-frills as far out as they would go. The water felt thick and viscous; it muffled all sound around me except for the slow and steady crashing of the waves. I focused harder.

The vibration bounced through my side-frills just before I heard it.

It was…a voice.

No, that was wrong. It was—it was a sound, was it not?

The panicked beating of my heart and burning ache of my lungs drifted away just as I continued to sink from the surface. It thrummed through my body, deep into my very bones.

No…no, it wasn’t _just_ a sound, I decided.

It was a feeling. It was an otherworldly, ethereal _thing_ that swarmed through my thoughts like the buzzing of insects. It was of loss, longing, sorrow, suffering. It was of strength, persistence, stubbornness.

 _Hiccup..._ I thought. I imagined it coming from a direction I could perceive and craned my neck towards it.

A deep hum rose from within me, almost a purr but too forlorn to properly be called one.

_…Hiccup…_

Sharp pain sliced through my chest.

_Hiccup!_

My body seized. The voice and feeling snapped away, leaving me tearing at the water in desperation. I blinked blind eyes and flailed.

_What happened?!_

The surface was gone. It was all shadow. I had been under for too long, and a deep, primal part of me knew that it was already too late—that I had stayed under for too long!

I was drowning! I was drowning!

Baring my teeth, I flung my body about, looking for just the littlest bit of light. Bright spots were filling my vision—a warning that I was only moments from losing consciousness.

No, no, _no!_ I was _not_ going to die here! I was _not_ going to leave Hiccup! I would _never_ force him through the agony that I had endured only a few days ago!

There was just enough air left in my lungs to convert to gas. I let it filter up into my throat until I could taste it, just barely keeping myself from coughing.

I sent a burst of fire into the waters just before it died out.

The flash illuminated the ocean’s depths like the sun. Fish, the sand, the bottoms of the floating-trees far off in the distance.

Something far, far away lit up in brilliant colors. It was but a speck, its distance from me was so great.

I ignored it, thrashing in the opposite direction of the sand as my fire faded and left me blind again. The darkness of the ocean swooped in, bringing with it a terrible chill. I swung my paws and tail as hard as I could.

In those long, dark seconds, I feared that I had chosen the wrong direction.

My head broke through the surface. I coughed and wheezed.

I could no longer hear the…the… _thing._ I hissed, spinning around to try and get my bearings--only to let out a small gasp.

I must have been caught in an undertow, swept out to sea. The island was easily a mile away.

Fighting the ocean was pointless—it was too powerful. Just as it was for fledglings, the ocean was a death sentence for a _crippled_ dragon, too.

With a defiant snort, I closed my eyes and reached inside my heart for my magic.

The fireblast went far, far up into the sky and blazed across it like lightning. It gave an enormous, thundering crack as it tore through the clouds and enveloped the entire landscape.

As useless as it was, I flung my tail behind me, tucked my wings in, and began paddling. I funneled the remainder of my lighting gas into my throat and opened my jaw wide, lighting up a glowing spot on the waters for a searching group to spot.

After wasting so much time dazed beneath the waves, it was exhausting.

Within minutes, I could not go on.

**o.O.o**

“ _…ing?…u’re…lled…_ ”

“ _…mean?...we…dead…”_

_“Shh! Both…now…”_

“ _Not_ my _fault…why…?”_

_“…quiet…!”_

_“But…mistake…”_

_“Shh…he’s waking up…_ ”

**o.O.o**

_Fwish fwish fwish fwish…_

My ear twitched.

Awareness came upon me in a slow crawl, my senses growing more and more crisp over what felt like an endless period of time.

Scent came to me after sound: the brine of the ocean, the freshness of the forest, the crispness of the wind, and a myriad of others that my senses were too dulled to pay attention to.

My limbs felt leaden with soreness, and the firmness of the ground beneath me made me dizzy. The ground was soft and prickly—grass?

Weariness cast a heavy blanket upon me, sending me drifting in and out of a daze like driftwood bobbing in the ocean. Thoughts fluttered by like pestering insects, just noticeable enough to bother but impossible to catch with a swatting paw.

A feeling of wrong seemed ever-present, but I couldn’t pinpoint it.

I was content to lie there, caught in-between consciousness and sleep, and let myself simply _be_ there.

Naturally, the Dragoness of the Moon saw fit to put an end to that.

The earth below me shook violently, and a painfully-loud _THUMP_ materialized right next to my ear.

I had only managed to wake up enough to be alarmed when talons wrapped around my shoulder and shook me about.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

_What the hell?!_

I struggled to squint my eyes open, and was rewarded with the sight of the world whipping by in a dizzying blur. “ _Sto_ — _op!_ ” I gasped, twisting around on my back and flinging my claws out.

“Oh! You’re awake now, great!”

Ugh, I felt sick. I closed my eyes and tried to recenter myself after having been so rudely thrust back into the real world.

It caught up to me all at once.

With a pained wheeze, I forced my eyes open and lurched to my feet, gasping with the effort.

“Come _on!_ Hurry up!”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“And why...are you still on... _this_ side of the island...Stormfly?” I panted.

Stormfly froze. “Um…”

She finally threw herself into a bow, “M-my apologies, my King!”

I didn’t have time to worry over the yearling disobeying us. Shaking my head, I took a moment to catch my breath. “It’s fine—what happened? Why are you here? Why…?”

I stopped.

I knew what the feeling of wrong was.

“Hiccup?!” I gasped. Fear sent energy into my body, and I spun around in a tight circle. “Where is he?! How long—? When did—?” I spun around to Stormfly, who had her head tipped all the way to the side. “What happened?!”

“Um...what?” She asked. “Why did you send your fire way out over the ocean? Why were you sleeping there? Why do you smell like that? Where’s the other King?”

“That’s what I _just_ —oh, nevermind! Why are you here? Did you see anything?”

“Yeah!” Stormfly said.

I waited.

“ _And?_ ” I pressed.

“There’s a bunch of weird-smelling humans coming into the human nest! My human’s _really_ scared!” She clucked. She narrowed her eyes and threw her head in annoyance. “She kept on trying to send me away! I didn’t want to, because she’s so small and needs me to keep her safe. But once the weird humans got close enough, she started yelling at me all mad and stuff!”

I craned my neck in desperate search of the “bunch of humans” and wheezed, “When did this...happen…? Wait, where…?”

We were in Berk—and by “in Berk”, we were _literally_ inside the nest, surrounded by wood-caves. Not the forest, not the smoke-cave, not the docks, not the sea stacks. Further searching only compounded the sheer absurdity of the situation; the steep pathway to the docks was just in sight, and with it…

“See?” Stormfly pestered. “They’re already on their way up! What’s the point of chasing me off then, huh? My human can be so _stupid_ sometimes!”

The humans. They had attacked us. I hadn’t seen what had happened to Hiccup after we were separated, but I didn’t need to.

Magically-sprouted wings or not, we had been too high up for him to land safely.

He was with them.

I limped forward, and the entire island seemed to rock back and forth with sudden nausea. A sharp pain sprung from my injured right paw, which still had a woodclaw embedded in it.

“Woah!” Stormfly squawked. “Where are you going?! We’re not allowed there!”

“ _You’re_ not allowed there,” I corrected her. She lowered her head submissively, cowed, and I softened my voice. “Thank you for your help, Stormfly...but it really _is_ dangerous for us here. I’ve...got a special job for you...alright?”

The yearling beamed, bouncing up and down on the spot and flapping. “Okay! Okay! Okay!” She composed herself, shook her head, and then spread her wings out in a formal bow that didn’t quite suit her. “I-I mean, I’d be honored, my King.”

Despite the matters at wing, I had to force back a smile. In between pauses for breath, I instructed,  “I need you to fly up and...find the rest of our nestmates. They should...be on their way now, but they need to know...it’s too dangerous to descend. Tell them to...lie in wait far above, out of sight, and...wait for my signal if needed.”

“Okay! Okay! I got it!”

“Alright, now repeat it back to me.”

“Fly to our nestmates and tell them to wait for you!”

Not quite teeming with details, but it would be good enough. “Good. Now go, quickly!”

Stormfly puffed up. “Okay, my King! You can count on me!” She lifted her wings extravagantly, tail sticking straight up.

It would have looked almost magnificent if she managed to lift off properly. Instead, her wings were strained too far backwards, which resulted in her shoving the air in front of her and not beneath her. She hopped in place and blinked, startled.

Then, without a word, she crouched low and took off _correctly_ , launching herself above with much more care.

I had a feeling that our nestmates were _not_ going to get the message.

“Remember, wait for my signal!” I shouted up at her.

Very distantly, “...okay!...”

I sighed. At least she was safe now, no longer keen on following me or Astrid straight into her own demise. I swear that Two-Walker was going to get herself into trouble with her trusting nature.

With our nest organized...hopefully...I set my sights back on the crowd of humans approaching from the docks. They were moving very quickly into the nest. I had to go at this delicately; if they had Hiccup, then they could easily use him as a hostage.

In the sudden loneliness of the abandoned nest, the shock of being woken up faded. Exhaustion slammed into me, nearly knocking me back to the ground in its heaviness. I lacked the strength to leap up onto the wood-caves for the advantage of higher ground. As such, I slunk close to the shadows, using the lack of moonlight to my advantage and creeping along the sides of the wood-caves.

My limbs were slow, my reflexes dulled; it was like I had been turned into stone. I was forced to stop several times to catch my breath.

By the time I had caught up to the crowd, it had traveled deep into the nest and had grown significantly in size with Berk’s humans. I lifted my ears and slowed my pace, training my attention on what the humans were saying.

Too many were talking—it was all muffled and muddled. All that was distinguishable was the fear and shock.

I crept closer, wincing at the movement. My head was beginning to pound with one hell of a migraine.

The King’s voice cut through the chaos like a talon through flesh. “There are no dragons on Berk!”

_...huh?_

I was too tired to try to reason that one out. Luckily, the anger in the King’s voice silenced the rest of the humans, allowing me to focus better on what they were saying.

A female human responded in kind, just as frustrated. “I know yer lyin’ to me, Stoick! I’ve heard the rumors! Trader Johann himself said your island was filled with ‘em!”

“Do ya _see_ any dragons around here?” Came the voice of “Gobber”. “Because, _hmm_ , I can’t say _I_ do!”

“I don’t know how ya did it,” the female growled. “But I know _who_ did it. Where is he, huh? Where’s the monster ya call yer son?”

“That’s enough.” The King was shockingly calm, considering the nonsense the human female was spewing. “We cannot help you with your unreasonable demands. I’m sorry, but there is nothing we can do for you, and we do not have the resources to spare to house you here.”

The female wasn’t so easily brushed off. “For the last time, quit ignorin’ me and answer my question!” She said. “I’ve heard all about yer son controllin’ the dragons. I _know_ he’s the one sending raids to all the islands!”

The migraine worsened as I tried to find some rationality in her logic. I grit my teeth, swaying where I stood.

Maybe...it would be a good idea to back away. Hiccup obviously wasn’t here—so where was he, then?

“ _Chief!_ ”

The call was wild and terrified, interrupting the squabbling humans. I blearily tipped my head to the side.

“There ya are,” the female said. “What took ya so long? You were sent to get the dragons nearly thirty minutes ago! Does this have somethin’ to do with that strange lightnin’ we saw?”

“No,” a new voice growled. “But we got a dragon, alright. When we got to the ships, there was a _Night Fury_ snoopin’ around ‘em!”

Audible gasps came from the intruding humans. The humans of Berk stiffened and sent quick glances to each other.

I panted, slumping on the wall of the nearest wood-cave.

“A-and that’s not all!” Cried the first trembling voice. “W-when we attacked it, _this_ jumped off of it! Beetle, show ‘em!”

A second passed where a human shuffled around to the center of the group.

_Thump._

The King cried out, losing all of his composure.

“ _Hiccup!_ ”

I snapped to attention, standing up straighter. In the crowd, I could just barely see the King’s tall form rush forward and stoop out of sight.

With a small groan, I pushed myself off the wood-cave and stumbled my way closer.

“So yer son _is_ here,” the female hummed. “I must say, I’m surprised he looks normal. I expected somethin’ bigger.”

“Gobber, help me untie him! What did you—why is he—?” The King’s voice lowered dangerously. “Who did this.”

“A better question is, _why_ was he with a Night Fury?” The female snapped. “What happened?”

“He wasn’t just _with_ it!” The frightened human gasped. “He was _growlin’_ and _hissin’_ at it, just like a dragon! And when we hit ‘em with a catapult, he _flew_ off ‘a it with _wings!_ ”

“ _Catapult?_ ” The King hissed. His voice trembled with barely-contained fury. “You shot at my son with a _catapult?!_ ”

I was almost to the crowd now. By some miracle, none of the humans had seen me—although it didn’t take much to reason why.

The female seemed to notice a moment too late that her friend should have kept that a secret. “Well, I’m sure it was only to get the Night Fury—”

“ _GET OFF MY ISLAND!_ ”

The howl rang in my ears and thrashed against my skull. My migraine compounded so fiercely that spots swarmed in my vision and a high-pitched whine squeezed from my throat. My paw gave out, and I just barely managed to keep myself standing.

It completely obliterated my element of surprise. Every damn human that was close to me yelped and twisted round to face me.

Once again, a stunned silence swooped upon the humans.

I peered through the crowd. Just there, in the very center, was…

I couldn’t hold back a relieved smile, eyelids drooping. “ _Hiccup,_ ” I breathed. “Oh, thank the gods...”

I lurched forward.

The frightened human found his voice.

“ _NIGHT FURY!_ ”

Everything collapsed. There was no time for confusion. Immediately following the outcry, a female human ripped something from her midsection and charged.

She blocked Hiccup from my sight. I narrowed my eyes.

I couldn’t fight, not like this. I knew that all too well.

But I was going to have to.

Baring my teeth in a weak snarl, I lowered my head, whipped my tail about, and braced myself. The human got close enough for me to see the rage and terror in her eyes.

A blur of color swept in front of me. I blinked, and the human was lying on the ground, groaning.

“Dog’s Breath” straightened up and stood in front of me.

“Are you mad?!” He spat. “Attack this one, and they’ll all come down on us!”

“Thanks...” I mumbled, starting to feel a little woozy. Even though I was still struggling to catch my breath, I padded around “Dog’s Breath” and stepped directly into the crowd, allowing me a better view of the pocket in the center where everyone was talking.

_There._

Hiccup was lying unconscious, the King crouched protectively over him and “Gobber” standing besides them. There were bindings all over him, just loosened enough for them to hang off of him.

He’d been tied up. I’d heard that already—but seeing it filled me with rage, bringing with it newfound strength. I dug my claws into the ground, just barely restraining myself from launching at the nearest human that didn’t smell like Berk, and picked up my frustratingly-slow pace.

“Somebody kill it!” A human screamed.

“ _NO!_ ” The King commanded. He flung a paw at me in the same “you are dismissed” gesture Hiccup would often use at our nestmates. I snorted; did he _really_ think I would leave?

The human who had attacked me winced and struggled to rise to her feet. Even in my exhaustion, I could see that she was lame in her hind leg—a fresh wound was there.

It was a bite mark.

She balked at me…and then laughed.

“So ya really _do_ have dragons on yer island!” She said. “And ta think ya tried to lie ta me and send me off?”

Why was she still going on about this?

_Ugh, I don’t care._

I stumbled closer to my brother, keeping my eyes trained on him. I would personally rip those bindings to shreds and light them aflame. Then I would turn the same treatment on the humans who dared do such a thing to him.

The humans of Berk parted for me, allowing me access directly to Hiccup—and to the intruding humans, whom were all surrounded in the center with nowhere to go. Fear-scent began to fill the air. I reached the pocket, and a wall of weapons rose to meet me.

Forced to a stop, I raised my lip to reveal teeth and gums, letting loose a rattling hiss that was far more confident than I felt. Many of the humans trembled on their feet as they should, but didn’t stray from their formation.

“All of you, back!” The King commanded furiously. “You are to leave him be, and depart from my island this instant!”

“What’s goin’ on here, Stoick?” The human whom I gathered to be their Queen demanded. She ignored me and shoved her way through the humans to stand right in front of the King. “Ya tell me ya don’t have dragons on yer island, ya refuse to talk about yer son, and then my men find ‘im sneakin’ around our ships? What’s this they about him _flyin’_ , like some ungodly half-dragon creature? Why are ya protectin’ a _Night Fury?!_ ”

Through the crowd, the King met my gaze.

He was doing a damn good job at a furious scowl, but even in his eyes, I could see my own confusion reflected in them.

“What, can’t speak now that yer caught in yer lies?” The human Queen snapped.

“That’s enough,” the King snarled. “You have arrived here unannounced, armed, and with demands that we are not obliged to fulfill. Your men come to us with my son bound so tightly he’s nearly suffocated and tell me that _he’s_ the monster.”

He narrowed his eyes, and a sudden, eerie calm swept over him.

“You will be off my island this instant, or I will rain Hel upon you.”

“No.”

The King nodded around him, and the humans of Berk unsheathed their weapons. The intruding humans gasped and tensed, inching their weapons closer to me. The fear-scent was almost choking now, hanging like a humid mist in the air.

The human Queen stared coolly around her, undisturbed by the blatant threat. “ _Your_ tribe started all of this. Everybody knows the raids have somethin’ to do with your demonic son, even other tribes far from here. Ya wouldn’t come ta us, so we came ta you. We’re not leavin’ until ya agree ta fix the problem ya started.”

A grin slid across her face. “Or we can fight. I’ve been itchin’ for one for a while now. Can your men stay _all_ the tribes in the archipelago?”

Human King and Queen stared each other off.

A distant call came from above, along with the unmistakable sound of wings. I lifted my head higher, feeling _much_ more confident.

And I lost my patience.

“Let me through!” I roared, flinging my wings open and rearing.

It was so unexpected that all of the enemy humans lost their focus. A few dropped their weapons from the sheer shock, and one even scrambled backwards and fell on their back.

I pounced onto the opportunity, rushing through the hole in the barrier before they could react. They scrambled away from me, too cowardly to strike when they didn’t have safety in numbers. I sent a thankful prayer to the Dragon of the Sun for that; I didn’t have it in me to force a way in.

The human Queen stepped in front of me, drawing a heavy weapon that seemed to end in a large rock. “Back, devil!” She spat, but was unable to keep her own fear from shaking in her voice.

I gave her one warning, hissing and stamping the ground.

A soft moan drew my attention away from her.

Hiccup brought up a paw to his head. His wing—his _wing!_ —trailed up with the movement.

“ _Hiccup!_ ” I cried. _“Danger!_ ”

He stiffened, pretending to be unconscious now. It didn’t work; the King had a keen eye, and had noticed our interaction, no matter how small.

He placed a paw lightly on Hiccup’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. “Hic—”

Hiccup flinched, twisted around with flailing claws, and bared all of his teeth in a ferocious snarl. Even though he sounded like a fledgling, it was still of such intensity that it would have given an adult pause.

The warning echoed twice before I realized that I should have kept my damned mouth shut.

The human Queen stumbled several steps backwards, her weapon now aimed at Hiccup and trembling in her paw. The King’s mouth was parted in horror, his eyes bulging. He had reared his paws back, and now held them out complacently.

Hiccup blinked up at his father. His eyes trailed away from him and through the stunned crowd.

Fear and dread bloomed across his face as he pieced it all together and he realized what he’d done.

“Monster,” a human whispered, and I couldn’t tell which nest they were from.

I jolted towards my brother in desperation—both to be _close_ to him and to protect him as best as I could.

As I skirted past the human Queen, she regained her senses, snapping her head towards me.

“No!” Hiccup gasped.

Cringing, I threw myself down and felt the wind brush past me from the swing. Without even sparing the time to look at the Queen, I gathering my legs beneath me and threw myself in a clumsy leap the rest of the way to Hiccup.

I landed just in front of him and my legs gave out. Gasping, I sank to the ground beside him and held a wing over him, pressing my cheek against his. He sat up, shooting fearful and confused looks between his father and the human Queen.

“What…what _are_ you?” She growled.

Hiccup flinched away like he’d been struck. I showed my teeth and hissed at her, pinning my ears and opening my wings.

The Queen lifted her weapon.

The King stepped in front of us.

“Don’t you dare,” he said in a low, even tone.

All around us, humans were unsheathing claws and swords and axes and mounting woodclaws to curved sticks. My heart lurched in my chest, and my breathing accelerated to a frantic, panicky pace.

Another call came from above—this time aggressive.

“Ya can’t be serious. That _thing_ isn’t yer son, Stoick—it’s a demon! It’s brought a _Night Fury_ into yer village!”

“ _Up_ ,” I told Hiccup.

He was shaking, staring at the human with wide eyes and holding his chest. I prodded him with a paw, and he flinched and snapped his attention to me. With a groan, he grabbed hold of my spines and crawled up onto my shoulders.

As I did so, the King snapped, “You are speaking of matters that you don’t understand. This is your final warning. I will not tolerate threats against my son or village.”

Hiccup barely weighed a thing, but as tired as I was, he might as well have been as heavy as the King. I narrowed my eyes and bared my teeth, slowly lifting myself up on rattling, unsteady legs. My tail hung low and my ears drooped, and I snapped my wings out for balance when I suddenly fell to the side. Hiccup immediately tried to get off, and I drew my wings up to keep him put.

“You’re mad,” the human Queen said in disbelief. “The dragons are our enemies! All they do is kill our people and destroy our livelihoods! And yer tellin’ me that yer village is just livin’ with them? Lettin’ them turn yer people into half-dragon _monsters?_ ” She gestured at Hiccup, who made himself small against my back.

“W-wait,” he stammered. “That’s not—we’re not—e-everyone just needs to calm down!”

“Oh, speakin’ like a person now, are ya?” The human Queen mused condescendingly, raising an eyebrow. She pointed at his wings. “Ya might have these people fooled, but not me. _Look_ at you! Ya don’t side with _us_ , that’s for sure!”

Something around us…shifted.

I flicked my eyes around. Hiccup grew very tense, gripping onto me as tight as he could.

The humans of Berk looked uncertain.

_Oh, no._

The King shared a look with us. He widened his stance just enough so that he was now ready to spring to action.

“The dragons do not raid Berk,” he said in that calm, commanding tone. “Perhaps it is because we are doing something right.”

The human Queen threw her head back and laughed, the light of victory gleaming in her eyes. “You think yer doin’ somethin’ _right?_ How many of ya _really_ want to live with dragons?” She cried out to the surrounding nest. “How many of ya want these demons walkin’ amongst you, always havin’ to look over yer shoulder?!”

“ _Dragons!_ ” One of her inferiors shouted in sudden fear, pointing upwards.

Our nestmates had been hovering above for some time now. They had been spotted against the stars.

“Look at them, waitin’ to strike!” The human Queen shouted. “They’ll kill us all if we drop our guard! Men, _fire!_ ”

“ _NO!_ ” Came a cry from the opposite end of the crowd—it was Astrid.

At that very moment, I lifted my head to the heavens and hailed, “ _Our nestmates, attack!_ ”

“ _UNDERSTOOD!_ ” Came the resounding battle cry, a shriek that ripped through the air like it had fangs and talons of its own.

The human Queen went for the first strike, launching towards us with a furious scream. In a single, smooth motion, the King stepped aside, grabbed her swinging paw, and kicked her injured leg. She was forced back, baring her teeth in pain and fury.

“Hiccup, Toothless, _run!_ ” He shouted over his shoulder.

Out of pride alone, I wanted to defy him—we were Kings, and we must be the first to defend our territory. How _weak_ would we be to turn and run at the first hint of conflict?

But Hiccup and I were too exhausted to be of use in battle, and our nestmates could easily be injured attempting to rescue us. Throwing ourselves into battle for the sake of our egos would only make this terrible situation even worse.

Shame filled me. I began to back away towards the safety and emptiness of Berk as human weapons met each other in combat, sending head-splitting, sharp rings through the air. Human battle cries arose from all directions as the nest of Berk caved in on its intruders with brutal and efficient ferocity, one I still feared to this day.

The human Queen’s forces were outnumbered, but strong and fueled with fear—they were not overcome as easily as a group that small should have been.

“W-wait! We don’t have to fight!” Hiccup shouted above the clamor, his voice filled with dread. He leaned forward, trying to push me back towards the fight. “Please, stop!”

A moment later, the darkness of the night lit up in flames.

Our nestmates descended upon the intruding humans with the frantic and wild fury of a nest threatened with being overthrown. Flame-Skins lived up to their name, running into the fray in searing coats of flame. Two-Walkers descended and flung their poison barbs and clawed with their long talons. Two-Heads spewed gas in a perimeter around the opposing forces and lit them aflame, trapping them like prey in a ring of fire. Hum-Wings and Little-Biters hovered above, spitting out rains of molten lava and crackling sparks.

“No!” Hiccup cried as human screams of anger turned fearful and pained.

I narrowed my eyes. If we couldn’t fight, we could guide our nestmates.

“Watch your tails!” I shouted. “They’re teaming up, don’t let them behind you!”

This was true—all of the intruders had abandoned their human opponents and turned on our nestmates, aiming for the wings and tails. I bristled, desperately trying to force firing gas up into my throat and finding none to spare.

It quickly became apparent that something was off. Somehow, our nestmates were starting to be cornered—it was like there were more humans! Where did they come from?!

I squinted in the stinging light of the fire, growling.

Realization brought a cold, muted disbelief onto me. The intruding human force hadn’t grown in size.

Some of _Berk’s_ warriors had turned on our nestmates!

I took a step back. And then another. The betrayal knocked the breath out of me.

Berk’s humans were fighting the intruders—but some were hovering uncertainly, watching the battle and struggling to find their place in it. Some of the disgusting traitors were standing side-by-side with our mutual enemies, using their allied status to their advantage!

Even in battle, the scent of Berk was easily-detectable—and our nestmates refused to strike them on my previous commands. I watched in horror as many faltered and dropped their defenses, confused by the sudden change of heart.

They were vulnerable now, easy to fell in their unwillingness to break our unsteady tie with Berk.

“ _Fall back!_ ” I commanded, my voice tight and shrill. “Fall back, they’ve turned on us!”

Our nestmates began to back away, but too many were caught in battle—to turn and flee would mean exposing their wings and tails. It was a certain death.

“Toothless!” Hiccup gasped. “We have to stop this!”

“ _No! Berk human fight dragon!_ ” I hissed at him.

He growled in fear, his eyes wide as they reflected the firelight before us. “They’re all going to _die_ at this rate! We can’t do this again!” His voice cracked. “We can’t _kill_ people again!”

I shot him a look with wide eyes. “B-but _Hiccup_ ,” I said. “ _Human attack_ us! _Us—_ ”

Amid the fire, the King barreled into the human Queen and threw her backwards. She fell to the ground right in front of me.

The King put his sword to her throat. I leapt forward, roaring with unsheathed claws.

A small figure leapt atop the human Queen.

Hiccup rose to his hind legs, flared his wings between the King and me, and _howled_ in dragon:

“ _STOP!_ ”

The sound of battle dimmed. Humans whipped around to find the source of the scream, startled to hear a dragon so close behind them. Our nestmates halted.

In the abrupt stillness, every dragon lowered their body in a bow and murmured, “Yes, my King.”

Without a moment to waste, they heeded my previous command, leaping from their crouched positions into the sky. Blood rained from the skies from the innumerable wounds our nestmates had sustained for us. Horror filled me when I saw some _running_ away rather than flying.

“Stop…” Hiccup whimpered in human, his small body shaking like he’d been soaked with freezing water. “All of you, stop…please…”

The scent of smoke and fire and blood hung heavy in the air. Many humans were lying on the ground, wounded by fire and human weapons.

A considerable number of them weren’t moving.

I searched through the crowd, leering at the traitors as they slunk away. I caught sight of Astrid besides Stormfly, both of them coated in blood and breathless from fighting. Even the King had a few injuries of his own, although I couldn’t tell who’s blood it was smearing across his torso.

Hiccup stepped off of the human Queen. She launched to her feet and took in the gruesome aftermath, the pools of blood, the fallen humans.

“ _You_.” She whipped towards Hiccup. “ _You_ are the one commandin’ the dragons.”

“No—”

“You listen here, you _monster_ ,” she interrupted. “You’ve got another thing comin’, if you think you can keep this up. We won’t stand by and let yer dragons raid our islands.”

“...We?” I repeated, inching closer to Hiccup.

“N-no, you’ve got it all wrong,” Hiccup rushed. “We don’t have _anything_ to do with—”

“ _Retreat!_ ” The human Queen shouted over her shoulder. Her inferiors scrambled to gather up their wounded.

The _good_ humans of Berk remained battle-ready, crouched and forming a wall around the intruders.

“Let them pass,” the King said to his remaining ranks. He narrowed his eyes at the human Queen. “Next time, we won’t be so merciful. Hopefully you’ve learned not to challenge us.”

Fire smoldered around us, glinting angrily in the human Queen’s eyes.

“You’ve already lost, Stoick,” she said. “Now we know that _thing_ exists and that it lives here, too. Our allies are far stronger than your dragons.”

I lunged forward, flaring my wings and opening my jaw wide in a snarl. The human Queen stumbled backwards. I smirked and loosened my posture.

“Off with you!” The King snapped. He stepped forward, flanked by his forces.

The human Queen and her nest were forced away under the watchful glares of both dragon and human. The King followed them to the docks to make sure they didn’t try anything. Hiccup and I stayed there, too exhausted to do anything more than stumble to the cliffsides.

We both sat down, facing away from the gore of the battle, and stared down as the floating-trees filled with our enemies. Hiccup placed his head in his paws and hunched over, taking in forced breath after forced breath. I wrapped my tail around him.

“ _It is fine_ ,” I murmured. Hiccup shook his head. “ _It is fine. Me here._ ”

“Oh, gods…” Hiccup moaned, clawing at his chest and wings drawn in. I pressed up against him, and he turned and clung to me with unsteady paws. His breathing was unsteady.

Guilt rushed through me. I cursed my stupidity and shortsightedness.

It was easy to get caught up in the battle, to take on a cold-hearted mindset devoid of empathy to win.

It was easy to forget how similar this was to the Queen’s raids.

_Dammit, Toothless! What’s wrong with you?!_

My heart pounded, and I butted Hiccup’s forehead. “ _It is fine_ ,” I comforted him, bringing up a wing around him to hide him from the sight. “ _Hiccup good._ ”

He shuddered and shook his head. “ _No…no…_ ”

“ _Me here_ ,” I reassured him. “ _See? See me?_ ”

Hiccup met my eyes, distraught and guilty and lost.

I strained for our link, but even now did it abandon us.

With drooping ears, I hung my head. “ _Me no listen. Sorry…sorry…_ ”

“They’re going to come back,” he whispered, burying his head into my scales. I did the same, closing my eyes and leaning into him.

“ _Us here, and us nest here_ ,” I murmured. “ _Us safe. Love you…_ ”

“ _L-love,_ ” he returned. “What…what do we do? People from _Berk_ were fighting us...”

“ _This us and nest home_ ,” I said. “ _Us protect home. Us good and strong._ ”

“But…”

“ _This easy_ ,” I reassured him. “ _Human very stupid. Hiccup very smart. Look!”_ I nodded at his wings. “ _How?!_ ”

This drew a small snort from him, although it sounded almost like a sob. Running his paws over his limp wings, he took in a deep breath and leaned into me, closing his eyes. “ _Thank you, Toothless._ I…I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“Actually…” I drawled. “ _Hiccup stupid._ ”

He gave a small smile, and I licked him just to annoy him. This earned me an annoyed groan and his paws pushing me away, but I wasn’t about to let him get away after I’d managed to cheer him up a bit. I used my wing to pin him to my side, purring all the while.

Hiccup didn’t fight against me, although he did rub at his fur with a small, worried whine.

We sat like that for some time. The intruders continued to step onto their floating-trees.

Hiccup was not the only one shaken by the unexpected and vicious battle. It wasn’t too long until our nestmates descended around us, trembling and frightened. We all huddled together for comfort and security, nursing our wounds and finding reassurance in the warmth and safety we provided each other.

The sun began to rise, putting an end to this horrible night. The floating-trees departed from Berk. I snorted at them, baring my teeth. Good riddance.

Hiccup saw them first, having been watching the docks while we waited for his father to return.

“ _What that?_ ” He asked everyone around us. Our nestmates still couldn’t understand him very well, so he pointed the human way out to the floating-trees.

Many of us murmured in confusion—and then several dragons gave surprised yips, myself included.

 _Dragons_ were flying from the floating-trees.

I let out a breath in relief. In the wake of the battle, we had been unable to free them; it was simply too dangerous to send our own nestmates to save them. I would not ask them to risk their lives when I myself could not do the same. That these dragons had escaped on their own was a blessing.

“ _Greetings!_ ” I called out to them.

Our nestmates took up the call, “ _GREETINGS!_ ”

The dragons banked towards us. Hiccup and I exchanged a nervous and excited look, shuffling around as we waited for them to land. These outsiders could possibly bring with them answers to all of our questions, resolving these frustrating mysteries once and for all.

They passed directly overhead without even glancing down.

Perplexed croons lifted from our nest, but not at the blatant rudeness the dragons displayed in refusing to acknowledge us. It was because of something almost familiar, something that I felt I _should_ know but had forgotten, sending a shudder deep into my heart.

An empty hum was emanating from them, unwavering and lost and almost unnatural-sounding.

The dragons were singing.


	8. Chapter 8

 

**Chapter 8**

Hiccup

The air whirled and the sun cascaded through dragon wings, casting vibrant light onto the earth below. Toothless and I sat in the middle of the downdrafts, watching our nestmates depart with unspoken longing.

We were left alone on the clifftops. Until things cooled down, it was something we would have to get used to. We couldn’t risk our nestmates staying in Berk—not when some villagers had betrayed us, turning on us in the heat of battle.

It was like we’d been blinded, left out in the open and vulnerable. We needed them here. We needed them if the Bog Burglars came back. We needed them if those strange dragons came back.

The thought of the foreign dragons made me feel anxious and jumpy for a reason I couldn’t quite figure out. I had been able to make out an odd, distinct accent and an almost melodic quality to their speech. It had almost sounded like smooth, running water, each word flowing indistinguishably into the next. Their words had been brimming with loss and sorrow and desperation, yet completely empty and devoid of substance at the same time. It was like nothing I’d ever imagined before.

It sent chills racing down my spine. They seemed to have no intentions of bothering us, but their presence still made me worry. Why had they ignored us? Why had they been on the Bog Burglar ships?

I sighed and ran my hand over my wings, and the tension in my shoulders loosened a bit. We’d already wasted enough time sitting around feeling confused and angry and scared—we needed to get to work.

“Toothless…” I began.

He huffed his “here we go” sigh. “ _Hiccup_ —”

“ _Look!_ ” I said, holding my arms out so that my wings flared. “ _Me fly now!_ ” I narrowed my eyes. “You _fly now._ ”

He gawked at my wings, only now getting a good look at them. He got up and stepped closer, sniffing at them. “ _Wow…_ ”

“So…” I said. “You’re gonna go talk to the elders now, right?”

He snapped his head up. “ _Huh? Why?_ ”

“ _Hiccup no fly, Toothless no fly_ ,” I repeated his words back to him. “ _Me fly now. You heal tail!_ ”

“ _Tail_ ,” he repeated back to me.

“ _Tail_ ,” I said more slowly.

“ _Speak again?_ ”

“Are you stalling?” I said, narrowing an eye and tilting my head aside.

Toothless pressed his lips together, his ears pinning against his skull. “ _Ah, no._ ”

“Yes, you are,” I complained. “ _Why?_ ”

Toothless stood there, looking scolded and uncertain. “... _me...no certain._ ”

“You’re not certain...you want your tailfin?” I leaned close to him, offering a soothing purr. “Toothless, I _want_ you to fix it. I really do.”

“ _Me know,_ ” he sighed, pressing closer. “ _Me no certain this fair._ ”

I looked down at my hands. “Lots of things aren’t fair, Toothless. But I don’t think this is one of those.”

He shook his stubborn head. “ _Me..._ ” Toothless struggled. “ _Me know me stupid_. _Me only lose tailfin. Hiccup no lose only wing. Hiccup lose wing, and leg, and tail, and fire and claw and teeth and...and_ everything! _And me_ only _lose tailfin!_ ”

I huffed. I’d known, in some way, that _that_ was the root of the problem—that he was more refusing on principle, on making our loss “even”. He felt that healing his tailfin would erase that, that he would no longer bear any burdens while I did.

It was the answer I had expected from him, even though I wanted more than anything to change his mind.

“ _Toothless_ ,” I said.

“ _No fair!_ ” He asserted, resolved now.

I groaned, running my paws over my face, and set him with a stern look. I was trying to convince him to _heal_ his tail, not give him more reason _not_ to.

Toothless met my stare. Again I clawed at the empty shell of my magic, almost begging our link to come forth.

I didn’t need it to know what he was thinking—or rather, what he _wasn’t_ thinking. Just by looking at him, I could see that he was exhausted, put on-edge just as much as I was both by the Bog Burglars and the strange, singing dragons. In the wake of a huge mess of uncertainty, he’d found something certain and solid to latch onto: his misguided morals that lead him to think it was cruelly unfair to heal his tail.

Maybe...when everything cooled down, he’d be able to look at it from the right angle. But in the wake of the battle—and now with him so riled up—we were only going to dissolve into an argument.

There had been so many fights in the past few days. The _last_ thing I wanted was to have one with Toothless—especially over _this._

And _especially_ because I had come up with a “Plan B” just in case this exact scenario happened.

“Fine,” I sighed, shoving as much disappointment into my tone as I could. Toothless hung his head, but his eyes still shone with determination.

“Well...in that case, we need to go back to the smithy,” I said, finally giving up on the topic for the time being. “There’s still something there I have to work on, but there’s few adjustments I need to make.”

Toothless still looked immensely guilty. He took in what I said, and he suddenly perked up with wide eyes. “ _Wait_ — _more? More this?_ ” He yelped, pointing his nose at my wings.

I shook my head and let myself relax, relieved for the change of subject. “Not exactly. It’s actually part of the surprise, but we kinda got interrupted. But besides that, I need to fix all of this.” I flared a wing and pointed at some stitching errors.

“ _Hiccup this,_ ” Toothless said, opening both of his wings to their fullest extent. He tried to hide how it hurt him, making a show of flapping them a bit like he’d meant to flinch.

I did the same, including the “trying to pretend my body isn’t full of pain” bit.

Toothless hummed in concentration, stepping carefully around me with a critical eye. Every so often, he would carefully prod at my wings where they connected to my side, no doubt taking notice of the dangerously-loose stitching as well. He reached out and nipped with his gums at the fabric, pulling it to test how far out it extended and responded to stretch. After several rounds, he sat down beside me with a proud grin.

“ _Wow!_ ” He said. “ _Very, very,_ very _good!_ ”

“I mean—”

Toothless snorted dismissively. “ _Hiccup stupid. This good!_ ” He got up and pointed the human way at my rump. “ _Need base-fin._ ”

“But… _no tail_ ,” I said.

“ _Yes,_ ” Toothless mused. He pointed between my legs. “ _No there_. _Hiccup no walk._ ”

Both of us studied my leatherwork.

“ _Here?_ ” Toothless asked, pointing the human way at my back.

“I think…so?” I mumbled, already running through schematics in my head. “ _Need drawing._ ”

” _Drawing_ ,” Toothless corrected.

“ _Drawing?_ ”

Toothless nodded, purring. “ _See?_ ” He asked. “ _Hiccup very smart!_ ”

I batted at him and then leaned against him. “ _Thank you, Toothless_ ,” I crooned. “I know I say this a lot, but I’m just…glad you’re here. Just talking really helps…and this, too.” I flopped a wing at him.

“ _Speak good!_ ” Toothless huffed in a playful-but-actually-serious exaggeration. “ _Toothless_ always _speak good! Hiccup no listen?_ ”

“Sorta,” I said. I nudged him. “Like a certain _someone_ else.”

Toothless scoffed and swatted at me with his tail.

“ _Ugh!_ Well, _anyways_ , we should go,” I said, my eyes trailing back down towards the docks. “We gotta…actually, hold on.”

“ _Why?_ ” Toothless asked.

A wave of anxiety burst through my chest as I peered down at the docks with my lame, human eyes. I searched and searched, but saw nothing.

“I want to wait for Dad to come back up.”

Toothless grimaced. I couldn’t help but do the same.

“ _Hiccup...certain?_ ” Toothless groaned.

“ _Yes_ ,” I sighed, holding my arms in. “I want to make sure he’s okay. And also, I…” I swallowed and forced a deep breath to try and collect myself. “I _growled_ at him, Toothless.”

“ _No you fault_ ,” Toothless was quick to validate, but I shook my head.

“I don’t want to just wander off on that note. Especially when he was so worried about me.”

With each word, guilt weighed heavier and heavier on my heart. Why had it taken me this long to even _think_ about this? What was I thinking, to just go back to smithy and get working like everything was normal?

“ _Wait_ ,” Toothless said, whipping around to face the ocean. “ _Hear that?_ ”

I stiffened, straightening myself upright. After a few seconds, I began to hear a faint, high-pitched sound.

Someone was...screaming?

I’d already taken a step forward when a dragon rocketed right past us, sending down such a powerful draft that I nearly lost my footing.

“ _No, no, no, NO!_ ”

Toothless shouted at our nestmate. They tipped their head to look and dove down to meet us. I took quick notice that they was carrying something in their beak—a fledgling?

Our nestmate landed, stooped, and gingerly set whatever it was on the ground.

A very shocked, very scared, very shaken Astrid leapt to her feet.

“ _STORMFLY!_ ” She tried to admonish, but her voice still had a quiver in it. “ _No!_ Don’t _ever_ do that again!”

Stormfly beamed and purred soothingly at her, wrapping her tail around her like she was reassuring a fledgling. I took quick notice that the two of them were no less worse for wear than me and Toothless; the both of them were covered in the rusty-red of dried blood, and Astrid had a few noticeable bruises.

Toothless asked her a question in an extremely unimpressed tone, although he couldn’t quite hide a smirk. Stormfly lowered her head, keening at the two of us in a pleading tone. Whatever it was, she really, _really_ wanted to do it—and she wanted Astrid to come with her.

Toothless burst out laughing. Astrid started, turning around and finally seeing us there.

“Hiccup!” She gasped. Throwing her hands at Stormfly, she exclaimed, “What the hell?!”

Stormfly still had that stupid, proud smile. It was getting harder and harder to keep a serious face.

“We didn’t tell her to do that!” I rushed. “But are you okay? Did she think you were in danger?”

“Nope!” Astrid said. “I was just standing there minding my own business and she just _grabbed_ me and launched us _hundreds_ of feet into the sky!”

“ _Think human fledgling!_ ” Toothless snickered. “ _Think need protect! Want go nestmates._ ”

“ _What?!_ ” I whispered, trying and failing to keep myself from smiling. Toothless was quick to nudge me to “scold” me for laughing, and I pushed him away.

“It’s _not_ funny, Hiccup!” Astrid said. “That was _seriously_ scary and—and—”

She stopped short, having calmed down enough to _really_ take me in. Her eyes went first to my wings, then Toothless, back to my wings, and then to my eyes.

Without even thinking, I drew my arms in so that the fabric folded almost out of sight. There was nothing I could do to hide the leather attachments on my legs and torso—especially the ones clumsily wrapped around my prosthetic leg.

All at once, dread swept through me. I didn’t want all of Berk to know about this. Not after the battle, not after finding out that people still hated dragons in the _worst_ possible way, and not after…

…not after I’d snapped at Dad like a wild dragon.

Talking with Toothless about my wings had been a great distraction—but now it had dissipated, sending me falling back to the real world.

“So...um...” I stuttered, flicking my eyes around for some excuse to change the subject. “So you’re...alright, right?”

“Uh...yeah,” Astrid dragged out, still struggling to keep herself from staring. With a small smile, she reached up and patting Stormfly’s neck. “Just a little banged up. Stormfly was right besides me the entire time, so I won’t be getting any cool battle scars out of this one.” She turned back to me, suddenly grim. “And what about you, Hiccup? You were knocked out pretty good for awhile there.”

I shrugged, fighting to keep from looking too uncomfortable under her piercing eye. “It’s kind-of becoming part of my daily schedule at this point. Which isn’t...the best...uh, yeah.”

Toothless jolted upright and let out a short warning hiss. Stormfly also perked up, twining her neck around to look behind her.

Just at the pathway to the docks, someone was charging towards us. My heart began to hammer. It took my dull, human eyes longer than I wanted to focus on them and figure out who they were. I relaxed, but not as much as I would have liked.

Dad came barreling right into our pod, just barely stopping in front of us. I took an involuntary step back. only to force myself forward again.

“Hiccup—Astrid—are you two—alright?” He gasped.

 We both nodded, and he straightened up and managed to catch his breath.

“Good. Thank Odin you’re still here—both of you.” He eyed Stormfly suspiciously, but she was too busy preening her wing to notice. Turning to me, he asked, “Are you injured? Did the Bog Burglars do anything to you?”

Fire and arrows flashed through my mind’s eye. I shied away just a bit. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

Toothless gave an irritated huff—all but shouting, “You are _not_ fine!”

I sent him a pointed look. He returned it, then stopped and looked away in guilt—he knew that I’d noticed his injuries, too.

“I’m just sore,” I said. Facing Dad, I began, “Are you…”

My voice left me.

Dad was _covered_ in blood. Astrid and Stormfly were, too, but not nearly to the extent that my father was. Besides that, his chainmail had kinks in it, and whatever fabric he wore that was unprotected was riddled with tears. His hair was singed at its edges, as was the fur cloak he wore.

He followed my gaze and waved a complacent hand. “Don’t worry about me. It’s you I’m more concerned about.” He looked back out to sea, and his expression grew stormy. With clenched fists, he growled,  “They used a _catapult_ on you two.”

I looked down at my feet submissively, shoulders hunched. “That…was our fault,” I admitted. “We…we should’ve listened to you. We went looking around their ships, and they caught us.”

Dad didn’t look too surprised; he only sighed, putting a hand to his head. Astrid bit her lip and held her elbow, clearly wanting to sneak away.

I tensed, waiting for an angry outburst—and one we deserved. Even _Toothless_ lowered his head. After all, this whole mess could have been avoided in the first place if _we_ had been the ones listening. Every injury, every death, every sense of safety lost…it was all because we had to stick our noses where it didn’t belong.

In other words, it was all my fault _again._

I was hanging my head like I was about to be banished when Dad finally spoke.

“What’s done is done,” he sighed. “All we can focus on is what to do next.”

Both Astrid and I gaped at him. I’d been expecting yelling, or scolding, or _at least_ a disappointed scowl. The entire thing had been our fault; why wasn’t he mad? I _wanted_ him to be mad at me, as stupid as it sounded. I didn’t want to just be let off the hook, like it was no big deal that I’d screwed everything up again.

“But…” I returned my gaze to my feet.

Memories flashed just behind reality. Pain. Darkness. A human hand. Snarling and lunging to bite. Monster.

“I’m sorry,” I rushed, like I only had one chance. “I didn’t know it was you—I didn’t mean to growl at you like that, or, or—”

“Hiccup,” Dad interrupted in a soft voice. “It’s fine. _I’m_ fine. Don’t worry, alright?”

I peeked up at him, meeting his eyes. “...alright.”

Dad nodded with an obviously-fake smile. He huffed, pretending to readjust his helmet and belt, and then asked in a casual tone, “So what was all that with the dragons? Why’d this one carry Astrid off?”

Toothless and I shared a baffled look, but neither of us were about to beg for a punishment. Dad _was_ right that there were more important things to talk about. Specifically...

“Dad…there were people from _Berk_ fighting our nestmates,” I said. “It’s not safe for us here.”

Even saying it sent a shudder through me. Toothless hissed at nothing, ears pinned.

“That’s not true,” Dad said, the anger returning to his voice. He crossed his arms and cast a furious look through the village. “I’ll work out a punishment for those who betrayed us—something where we can keep them under close watch. What they did was wrong, and I will not tolerate it. I will _not_ have you feel as though you must always look over your shoulder in your own home.” He turned back to me, and his expression softened.

“I’m with you on this one, Hiccup. I promise.”

I met his eyes, and the tension in my shoulders loosened. A timid smile made its way to my lips. “Thanks, Dad.”

He gave me a small, encouraging smile that was almost unrecognizable.

With a wince, I made myself to stand up straighter and a little closer to him. “Still, because of all that, we told our nestmates to stay out of Berk, just until everything clears up.”

“That won’t work,” Astrid blurted. She ducked her head when all of us looked at her. “Sending the dragons away isn’t gonna help—it’s just gonna make it worse when they come back and people aren’t used to them anymore.”

As she said this, she put a hand up to Stormfly. Stormfly nuzzled her affectionately, purring at her.

Toothless threw his head in annoyance. “ _No safe here!_ ”

“ _Huh?_ ” Stormfly chirped.

“We can’t risk people attacking them,” I said for Toothless. All of it laid heavy on my shoulders, weighing me down with exhaustion. “A lot of us got hurt, and they won’t defend themselves because we told them not to fight the humans.”

Both Dad and Astrid stared at me with varying mixtures of confusion and worry.

A moment too late, I realized that I’d just distanced myself from them by referring to “humans” as something other than myself—that I’d _been_ doing that throughout our entire conversation. I tried not to make my guilt too obvious, but I was never good at that sort of thing.

“…Astrid has a point, however,” Dad said after a long beat. “If the Bog Burglars return, we have to fight them as one force. We’ll never survive if we’re too busy fighting each other. Like it or not, we have to stand together against this threat.”

“You can’t _force_ people to not be afraid of dragons, Dad,” I sighed. “And…you can’t force dragons to not be afraid of people.”

Dad gave me a worn look—it wasn’t like I _needed_ to tell him that, after all. “I know, son,” he said in a soft voice. “But we have to do something—and soon.”

Stormfly gave a loud complaint, throwing her nose against Astrid’s hand. Astrid began petting her absentmindedly, forcing Stormfly to twist and turn her head to get the spots she liked.

At first I frowned at the sight; I didn’t like the idea of dragons being treated as _pets_ , as dumb animals without thoughts or culture. But taking Stormfly’s actions in, I couldn’t help but blink and tip my head to the side.

“Maybe…” I turned to Toothless. “We can’t force people, but we can ease them into it.”

“ _Nestmate no here,_ ” Toothless reminded me, unwilling to call them back so soon. I nodded and turned back to Dad and Astrid, who were both more than a little confused.

“We’ll need your help, Astrid,” I said. “And then, if it works, we’ll call our nestmates back—but only when we know it’s safe for them.”

Astrid’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Uh, alright!” She said. “What’s your plan?”

“Hold on,” Dad said, holding up a hand to her. He faced me and narrowed scrutinizing eyes. “I’ve been waiting to ask…

“Hiccup, _what_ in Thor’s name are you _wearing?_ ”

I froze. Toothless inched closer to me, lowering his head just enough to block some of me from view.

There would be no distractions this time—I could tell just by the way Dad was staring at me that he wasn’t going to stop until he got his answer. Thinking that I could hide this from him was pretty optimistic, but still…

With a sigh, I nudged Toothless out of the way. Exposed there, I locked up, suddenly overcome with anxiety.

I met my father’s eyes, still warm and encouraging even if he was extremely confused. Despite how vulnerable it made me feel, I opened my wings.

Dad connected the dots in moments, his skin paling and his eyes widening.

Nobody said anything. Even Stormfly was baffled, gawking at me like she’d never seen me before.

“Wings,” Astrid breathed. “Wait, so did you—were the Bog Burglars right when they said you _flew?_ ”

I didn’t even look at her, keeping all of my attention on Dad. I couldn’t handle it anymore; I clutched my arms together, drawing my wings in.

Dad’s eyes were still huge with clear surprise, his expression taut as he tried to process what he’d just seen. When he _finally_ collected himself, the lost way he spoke sent guilt leaching through me.

“So…that’s what you’ve been working on?”

Forcing myself not to look away, I said, “Not _all_ this time, but…”

My voice trailed off. I searched his eyes for disapproval, but he only seemed resigned. I didn’t know if that was worse.

“Are you…are you mad?” I murmured.

“No, son…not at all,” Dad said in the same tone, looking guilty himself now. “Do they…do they work?”

Toothless purred, pushing his head against mine. I smiled, letting out a breath to relax.

“Y-yeah,” I said. With a little more pride, “They do.”

Dad’s brows drew in with worry. Still, he gave me a weary smile—even though it looked pretty forced. “Well…I’m happy for you, Hiccup. Your hard work’s paid off.”

I returned the smile, loosening my posture so that my wings weren’t completely hidden from sight. “Thanks, Dad. Really, that means…that means a lot to me. And…and I’m really sorry. A-about earlier, I mean.” I lowered my eyes. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”

Before I lost my nerve, I reached a hand out.

Dad’s eyes lit up, his smile big and real now. He took my palm in his and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, son. I’m _not_ angry with you.”

It was still there—that fear, that primal need to wrench away and snarl at him.

But it wasn’t so hard to suppress now.

I let the tension roll off my shoulders, allowing the moment to draw out just long enough. It didn’t take long for it to become too much; I began to feel claustrophobic and trapped. I leaned away, and Dad immediately let go of me, stepping back to give me some space.

“A-alright,” I stammered.

“ _Good, good,_ ” Toothless purred encouragingly, nudging me. I pawed at him and turned to Astrid, who was pretending to be fascinated with a nearby tree. She “snapped to attention” right away.

“So...here’s my plan.”

**o.O.o**

Astrid

The plan was, in two words, “damage control”. It was…the best we had, I guess.

The Chief almost immediately put it on hold, demanding that Hiccup and Toothless get some rest. Both of them were dead on their feet, and it wasn’t really that much of a surprise. Pulling an all-nighter was hard enough, but _both_ of them had been physically taxed as well. Especially Hiccup, who was still recovering from when he’d been captured last week.

Neither of them had even tried to refuse, which was proof enough of just how tired they were. So, for the time being, the Chief escorted them back to their house while I went into the village and got the others. After explaining everything, they headed off to the outskirts of the village with their dragons to wait until everyone could get together.

I met up with Hiccup, Toothless, and the Chief just at midday a few hours later. We stood at the lonely road that lead to the Chief’s house on the outer flanks of the village.

“Hey!” I said, waving. Stormfly let out a huge screech, bouncing up and down.

Hiccup grinned and returned the wave. Toothless watched him with a small amount of confusion, head tipped to the side, and then nudged Hiccup and said something.

“Hello, Astrid,” the Chief said. “Thanks for meeting us here. I’m off to go speak to Gobber about punishments.” He turned to Hiccup. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want me there?”

“Yes,” Hiccup groaned in exasperation, having probably been asked that question several times now judging by his tone. “We’ll be fine, Dad.”

The Chief looked incredibly worried, but nodded anyways—everyone knew he couldn’t guard Hiccup all day long. “Alright. I’ll be in the area. Come find me if there’s any problem, alright?”

“We will,” Hiccup said. He actually sounded like he meant it, and this drew a small smile from the Chief.

We parted ways, the Chief heading in one direction and Hiccup, Toothless, Stormfly, and I in the opposite. Hiccup was seated atop Toothless, and I could hear them murmuring to each other in hushed croons and purrs. Every now and then, Stormfly would chirp at them. More than once I almost built up the courage to interrupt them, but I always bailed at the last second.

I lasted a few minutes before it got unbearably awkward. “So,” I said, trying to keep nonchalant. “How are things...going?”

Hiccup stopped mid-sentence and sent me a surprised look, like he’d forgotten I was there.  “Do you mean...with Dad, or…?”

“Everything, really,” I said. “You’ve been cooped up in the forge for awhile now. I was kinda starting to wonder if you two were still alive.”

“Alive and kicking,” he said wearily. “But we’re doing okay. Thank you for asking, Astrid.” He shifted around, and said, “So, how...are you…?”

“Alive and kicking,” I said with a small grin. “Waking up to the Bog Burglars invading was both really cool and really scary.”

“Mostly scary,” Hiccup mumbled. Toothless purred at him, and he drooped. “I keep feeling like we’re just making this huge string of mistakes. Like everything we do is the wrong thing.”

I was already shaking my head before he’d finished speaking. “The Bog Burglars were getting on Berk one way or another, and they were looking for a fight,” I said. “I mean, it was _pretty_ stupid of you two to take a tour of their ships. But you didn’t _make_ them come, Hiccup. And they were the ones to attack first.”

He looked up at the empty sky. In a soft voice, he said, “I just hope we don’t make everything worse again.”

Toothless purred at him, and he straightened up more.

“We just gotta get this to work,” I pressed. “People are stubborn, but opinions can still change.”

“For once, it’s not just the people I’m worried about,” Hiccup said with a humorless chuckle. “We’re sitting ducks for the raiding dragons in the north. And I don’t even know what to think of the ones from the Bog Burglar’s ship.”

My brow scrunched together. I honestly had forgotten about them, seeing as they’d just flown away. “What about them?”

Toothless rumbled, throwing his head and swinging his tail. Hiccup nodded.

“There’s something _wrong_ with them,” he said.

We rounded a corner. Dragons leapt up into view, lounging in the streets.

It took everyone a few seconds to notice us and run over.

“He-ey, Hiccup! Long time no see!” Snotlout shouted. He raised his hand for a high-five, and when Hiccup leaned away in surprise, he pretended to readjust his helmet. “That’s fine, that’s cool…so you finally realized ya miss good ‘ol Snotlout? Ya know, you’ve missed out on some good times with me and Hookie!”

Toothless rolled his eyes so pointedly that it could be seen for miles. Hiccup pressed his lips together and shrunk against his friend’s back some more.

“You named him…’Hookie’?” Hiccup drawled, raising an eyebrow at the dragon in question.

Hookfang was currently getting chased in circles around Meatlug by Stormfly. Barf and Belch sat just away from them with narrowed eyes, occasionally snapping at them.

“What? No!” Snotlout exclaimed. “His name’s Hookfang! Pretty cool, am I right? A lot more fearsome and manly than ‘Toothless’.”

Toothless snarled, baring gleaming teeth. Snotlout squeaked and leapt behind the twins.

“Anyways,” I interrupted.

“Right, anyways, uh…” Hiccup began. “We need all of your help. If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“Finally, he recognizes _notre excellence!_ ” Tuffnut chimed in. “Do tell, oh reclusive dragon-boy!”

“Yeah, we need some excitement after we missed out on that battle! We totally slept through it!” Ruffnut complained.

Hiccup waited for the punchline, realized that she wasn’t joking, and stared in disbelief. Toothless’ eyes were half-lidded, one brow raised. He was actually looking _past_ the twins, like he couldn’t bother to focus his attention on them.

“What is it, Hiccup?” Fishlegs asked, stepping closer and bringing some actual sense to the conversation. He held up his notebook and said, “I’ve been taking a lot of notes from things I’ve learned from Meatlug, in case you want to read them. Not that it’s all stuff you don’t, uh, already know.” He laughed nervously and rubbed his neck. “Uh, sorry.”

“Don’t worry,” Hiccup said. “So…if you guys don’t mind, we need help with the tension between Vikings and dragons—”

“Oooh, so you need us to do some _convincing_ ,” Snotlout drew out, rolling his sleeves up and cracking his knuckles with a smirk. “Leave it to me, little cousin. Snotlout’s gonna hook ya up with Hookfang, and then we can call ourselves even for everything, alright?”

“What? Uh, no—I mean—” Hiccup stammered. “We’re not ‘convincing’ people like _that._ ”

“I wholesomely agree!” Tuffnut said, putting a finger to his chin. “I do believe this will require some _subtilité_.”

“What language is that?” Ruffnut asked, staring at her twin like he was…well, speaking another language.

“ _Anyways!_ ” I raised my voice, sending them all a glare to shut them up. “Hiccup, you were saying?”

By the grace of Thor, everyone managed to stay quiet while Hiccup explained his idea to them. When he was finished, all of them looked as excited about it as I did—even the twins.

“That’s, uh…” Fishlegs tapped his fingers together. “I’m not really sure…how well that’ll…work?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda lame,” Snotlout said.

Hiccup cringed, sending lines across his face that accentuated the bags under his eyes. Toothless threw his head and said something to him, and he perked up a little.

“It’s better than nothing,” I said. “Any of you got a better idea?”

Nobody said anything, sending each other helpless looks.

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s go, then.”

We were mingling a little outside of the center of Berk—but now we made our way further into it, towards the center.

After the battle, nobody was feeling up to going back to work, which meant that a lot of people were lingering outside talking to each other. Word of what the Bog Burglars had said had surely reached anyone who hadn’t heard it, and a blanket of tension had laid over Berk all day. Even more people than usual were outside, staring up at the bright mid-afternoon sky. It took me a second to realize: they were looking for the dragons. Some seemed confused, some disappointed, some relieved.

I glanced at Hiccup and Toothless as we approached. Hiccup looked incredibly apprehensive, holding tight onto Toothless. Toothless had his ears pinned and his eyes narrowed, ready to spring away at a moment’s notice. It seemed like sleeping had done them well physically, but not so much mentally.

As big as our group was, we very quickly gained the attention of everyone in the area. The village fell silent. Normally we could always hear dragons flying and scrabbling on the roofs and chirping, but now it was just…empty.

We stopped right in the middle of the village square, our dragons at our sides and confused, suspicious villagers staring at us.

Hiccup took a deep breath and put on a brave face. He sat up straighter on Toothless’ back and glanced around.

“Um…hey,” He began, and then grimaced at his stellar introduction. Shaking it off, he began, “I know a lot of you—”

“Who wants to pet a dragon?!” Tuffnut hollered.

Toothless yelped and spun around. The other dragons scrambled, running into each other and trying to position themselves at his side.

“ _Tuffnut!_ ” Fishlegs and I hissed.

The village was still completely quiet, but now it was a lot more awkward. Hiccup sighed, sharing a look with Toothless. His friend gave a subtle nod, and he straightened up again.

“I want to be honest with you,” Hiccup told them. He winced. “The Bog Burglars did attack us because of me and Toothless.”

Silence.

“B-but,” Hiccup said, starting to get nervous by the tough crowd, “we have to stand together. I—”

“Hold on!” Someone spoke up, stepping out from the crowd. It was Bergthora—my old mentor from when I’d briefly been forced into a bread-making apprenticeship. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow and asked, “What’s this about _pettin’_ dragons?”

Hiccup was already shaking his head. “Uh, that’s actually not—”

“Step right up!” Tuffnut shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Barf and Belch, at your service!” As he spoke, he grabbed his dragon’s leg and pulled, ushering him closer to the crowd. Barf and Belch turned to Hiccup and Toothless and squawked.

Hiccup dropped his head and groaned just loud enough for me to hear, “Oh, Dragon of the Sun.”

“Sorry,” I whispered to him. “I didn’t know how to _not_ include him if Ruffnut was coming.”

“I heard that!” Tuffnut said, still shouting. “But I don’t care! Barf, Belch, give them a hearty welcome!” He gestured dramatically at the crowd, flapping his arms around.

The Zippleback’s heads looked at each other and then at Hiccup and Toothless. Toothless said something, and Barf and Belch tipped their heads to the side.

The dragon leaned down, gently picked Tuffnut up by his shirt, and set him down on his back.

“Barf, _no!_ Bad dragon! I’m trying to make them _like_ you!” Tuffnut complained. He tried to leap off, and Barf and Belch opened their wing and trapped him underneath it, folding it over him. His shouting went from loud and piercing to muffled and tolerable.

Barf and Belch looked to Hiccup and Toothless for approval. Hiccup had his head in his hand, but Toothless looked pretty smug.

Back to silence we went.

Gods, you could almost cut the awkwardness with a knife.

“Look,” Hiccup said. “I know…I know that all of you are afraid. I know that because _I_ am, too.” He paused, searching through the crowd. “Our nestmates fought off the Bog Burglars just like all of you, but… some of you still don’t trust them, even when they were helping us.”

Some villagers made a big show of brushing his words off. Others glanced at each other guiltily.

“This has to stop,” Hiccup said. “If the Bog Burglars come back, we can’t keep turning on each other. We can’t keep living in this constant fear.” He wilted, looking down at his hands, and lowered his voice. “I know _I_ can’t.”

With a small moan, Hiccup swung a leg around and slid off of Toothless. He then turned and gestured to Stormfly. She bounced forward with enthusiasm, chest puffed up with pride.

“So…I want all of you to meet a dragon.”

“Bah!” A man said. “I’ve met plenty already, thanks.”

I made my way to Hiccup and Toothless’ side. “Just try!” I said. “Think about it—Stormfly here always tries to protect me. Don’t you want the dragons to _want_ to protect Berk, too?” I narrowed my eyes. “Or do you want them to doubt us, and be more ready to turn on us?”

“ _Astrid!_ ” Hiccup hissed, his eyes wide with horror. Toothless just barely raised his lip at me, leering with distrust.

All three of us knew what I’d said was a lie—that the dragons would never defy a direct order from Hiccup and Toothless to stand down.

The rest of Berk did not.

And it made an impact.

Suspicious gazes turned on the dragons, but now with just a bit more urgency. Now people realized that they could benefit from them, rather than the dragons only being a dangerous nuisance.

“You all saw how well the dragons fought the Bog Burglars!” I said. “So many people could have died if they hadn’t come when they had! Do you want to lose that protection? Because fighting them is a great way to do that!”

I pointed at Hiccup, and he leaned away with wide eyes. “Hiccup is _trying_ to stop that from happening. So if you want Berk to be protected from the Bog Burglars and their allies, I’d suggest you start listening to him.”

The same man as before snorted. “We don’t need help from dragons!” He growled. “We never did.”

With that, he turned on his heel and left.

One by one, more and more villagers followed suit, turning their backs on us.

“Welp, that worked,” Snotlout muttered.

“Quiet!” Fishlegs snapped.

Trying not to sound too unsurprised, I turned to Hiccup and said, “I’m sorry. I thought that maybe I could give them more incentive. Other than just _wanting_ peace, I mean.”

“It’s fine,” Hiccup said sullenly, looking down at his hands. He and Toothless leaned against each other, the both of them looking more and more defeated with each villager that didn’t even try to make an effort. “You’re right. Some people _don’t_ want peace. They just…”

He shrugged and shook his head, looking away.

“They just want to hate dragons.”

I said nothing, holding a hand out to Stormfly and letting her rub her head against my shoulder. Even in the wake of a victorious battle aided greatly by dragons, some Vikings _still_ wanted nothing to do with them.

But…

“Not everyone feels that way, Hiccup,” I said, straightening up. “Look!”

Hiccup’s head snapped up. His eyes lit up.

A large majority of the bystanders had disappeared...but there was still those willing to change left behind. It wasn’t even close to half the original size of the group— _maybe_ a third. But it was still a start.

Bergthora was one of them. She looked around her, shrugged, and approached us.

“So, then,” she said. “Ya want us to meet a dragon?”

**o.O.o**

One by one, each Viking was introduced to our dragons. Stormfly was first, of course, followed by Meatlug, Hookfang, and Barf and Belch in no particular order. Hiccup and Toothless hovered and observed, with Hiccup finding the courage to reach out—literally—and help many villagers make the first step towards accepting the dragons.

Over and over he initiated contact, bringing himself within the striking range of the very people who had once hunted him down like a wild animal. The action still seemed to terrify him—but he pushed on anyways, only stopping a few times to retreat and take a moment to recollect himself. Toothless never once left his side, and spoke constantly to the dragons.

Still, there were so few people willing to move forward that not even a few hours had passed before we had exhausted our supply. Once the spectacle was over, we mingled in the crosswalks, hoping that word of our little “Dragon Initiation Group” would travel and bring with it more people.

Stormfly was _ecstatic_ to have all of the attention—so much so that I was starting to get worried that she’d approach just about any villager that came up to her. I had to wrangle her back to the general central area we were in a couple times. She was so enthusiastic that she even begged little kids for attention.

I actually was letting said kids sit on her back when Hiccup let out a surprised yelp.

“D-Dogsbreath?”

I whipped around. Stormfly chirped happily and trotted right up to him, the children on her back squealing with excitement and their parents scrambling after her.

She stopped just in front of Dogsbreath, who merely narrowed amber eyes at her with a tense jaw. Hiccup and Toothless rushed forward to stand beside her, both of them not-so-subtly blocking her from getting closer to him. I was right at their heels, wildly pulling at Stormfly to get her to hold still long enough to grab the children off of her.

Dogsbreath raised a brow at all of us. “Calm down,” he said gruffly. “I’m not going to attack ya, even if yer the one responsible for this whole mess.”

Hiccup and Toothless shared a look, the former immensely guilty and the latter unreadable. Clearing his throat, Hiccup said, “Are you here to…help…?”

He scoffed. “Help _you?_ No, I’m here fer myself and my family.”

He pointed at Stormfly.

“I want one.”

Hiccup’s expression went slack. I grabbed hold of Stormfly as she lunged for his hand, but it was no use—she nosed his hand and then whined when he snapped it away.

“W-what do you _mean_ , you _want_ one?” Hiccup stammered, sounding almost offended. Toothless growled.

“Exactly what I just said,” Dogsbreath said. He pinned me with his eyes. “Yer dragon is fiercely loyal to ya—I saw that myself when she protected ya at the smithy. And the dragons ended the battle with the Bog Burglars almost as soon as it began.” He crossed his arm across his chest, pretending to be nonchalant, and grunted, “What with the Bog Burglars and their allies threatenin’ war with us, I’d like to have some extra protection.”

I had no clue what to say; did he think that I’d just hand Stormfly over or something? “That’s not…uh, Hiccup?”

“Dragons aren’t pets,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically hard and his gaze stern. “And they aren’t tools.”

Toothless growled and opened his wings.

“Yes, yes, we have ta make ‘friends’ with ‘em,” Dogsbreath said with a roll of his eyes. “And if that means I can rest a little easier knowin’ a dragon’s loyal to me and my family, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Then ya picked the right guys!” Snotlout interrupted, sauntering over like it was no big deal. “Might I interest you in the noble Monstrous Nightmare?”

He gestured in a wide swoop at Hookfang, who was currently hiding behind Barf and Belch with his head low. He was much more shy than the other dragons, and had spent the better part of the last thirty minutes running away from anyone who came close to him.

Dogsbreath grinned. “Aye, that’ll do.”

“Hold on!” Hiccup said, batting at the air in an odd, distracting manner. “It’s not that simple. You can’t just be _given_ a dragon.”

“Well, why not?” Dogsbreath said.

“B-because—!” Hiccup spluttered, aghast. “That’s like me telling a Flame-Skin I’ll _give_ him a human for protection!”

Toothless hissed for real this time, tail swaying back and forth. Stormfly stood up straighter and backed away, keening and shooting wide-eyed looks between me and Hiccup and Toothless.

Dogsbreath didn’t look too convinced, one eyebrow raised and mouth pursed. “Dragons aren’t people. We might as well use ‘em fer what they’re good fer.”

My heart dropped as Toothless’ growling intensified, his ears pinned and eyes slits. Hiccup lowered his head, nose wrinkled and teeth bared.

“Woah, woah!” I shouted, stepping between the dragons and Dogsbreath before the whole situation devolved. “Everybody just calm down, okay?”

Hiccup was already leering at his feet in shame, while Toothless lifted his head high and stared down his nose at Dogsbreath. Stormfly was lingering uncertainly behind us, head tipped to the side and wings fluttering.

“Okay,” I breathed. Facing Dogsbreath, I said, “Stormfly protects me because we’re _friends._ I’ve spent a lot of time with her, getting to know her and building trust with her. _That’s_ how you get a dragon to protect you—not just grabbing one and forcing it.”

“Hm,” he said. “So where can I find one, then? They’ve all gone.”

“Oh, oh!” Ruffnut piped up from behind me. “Dragon spotted!”

She pointed at some buildings, and I automatically looked at their rooftops. After a solid second of fruitless searching, I was a little annoyed that she’d decided to make a joke now, of all times. Then I trailed my eyes down and saw it.

Hidden beneath a cart was that scrawny, one-winged Terror that had approached Hiccup at the smithy awhile back. The poor thing must’ve been left behind, unable to fly away like the rest of the dragons. It took quick notice of our attention on it and huddled deeper in the shadows.

“That one’s puny,” Dogsbreath complained. “I need somethin’ big.”

“No—” Hiccup began, and I slapped a hand over his mouth. He flinched away with the same yelp I always heard from Stormfly.

“A moment, please?” I said between clenched teeth, nodding off to the side. Without waiting for an answer, I sent Dogsbreath a smile and stepped away, waiting for Hiccup and Toothless to follow me.

I had never seen him so upset before, his jaw clenched, his lip raised, his eyes nearly slits. His words came out rattled, and during each pause between breaths, he made a distinct rumbling sound. “Astrid, dragons aren’t tame!” He whisper-yelled at me, teeth bared and head lowered. He had his arms held out like half-opened wings prepared for flight, but luckily, the ones he’d made were tucked into his suit. “They’re people just like us, and—”

“I know, I know,” I soothed in the same voice I used to calm Stormfly down, holding my palms up to him. In a hush, I said, “Hiccup, you’re _growling._ ”

The anger snapped out of him, his eyes huge and his limbs locking in place. A moment passed.

Hiccup loosened his battle stance and clutched his arms to his chest, grimacing and deflating twice in size. “S-sorry,” he mumbled. “I just…I don’t want our nestmates to be treated like dumb work animals or—or just… _things._ Like they don’t have any choice.”

“Me neither,” I said. “But this is a good opportunity. He _wants_ to be around dragons, Hiccup! This is huge!”

“Yeah, but for all the wrong reasons,” Hiccup said in a low voice. Toothless snorted with agreement, shaking his head deliberately.

“I think it’s worth the shot,” I said. “If it doesn’t work, then the Terror can just leave him. But if it _does_ work, then more people will want to make friends with dragons.”

Hiccup shook his head, shoulders drooping. “They’ve already spent all of their lives as slaves, Astrid,” he whispered. He clenched his hands together and his voice wavered. “I don’t—we’re _not_ going to be the ones to let it happen all over again to them.”  His next sentence came out tight with anxiety and determination, “We’re _not_ going to be like the Queen!”

Toothless growled, his eyes aflame.

I hesitated. Very, very slowly, I put a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder.

He jumped like I’d thrown a punch at him, and Toothless lifted his wings and hissed. Still, Hiccup relaxed with visible effort, staring into me with such confliction that I started to feel _seriously_ bad. I hadn’t realized there was _this_ much complexity to this situation—I’d just assumed that dragons were…well, _just_ dragons. Yes, the smarter ones understood Norse—but in my mind, they had always still been _dragons._

For the first time, I wondered if Stormfly felt forced to do what I wanted.

“Okay,” I said, picking each word as carefully as I could. “I’m sorry, I…I didn’t realize it was this serious. But you gotta calm down—both of you.” I glanced at a furious Toothless as I said this. “You’re both riled up right now, and that’s not gonna help anything.”

Looking over my shoulder, I could still see the little Terror hiding beneath the cart. Now it was poking its head out of its shelter, eyes locked onto us.

“You don’t have to force anyone to do anything,” I said. “Can’t you just ask? The dragons want peace too, right?”

The fear and frustration in Hiccup’s eyes wavered, and he glanced uncertainly at Toothless. “What do you think?”

Judging by the burning glare and snarling, Toothless had _plenty_ of thoughts about it.

“I don’t know, Astrid…” Hiccup sighed.

“Try?” I encouraged. “If it doesn’t want to, then no harm done, right? But if it works, a lot more people might actually _want_ to live with dragons—not just tolerate them in the village.”

Pressing his lips together, Hiccup looked back at his companion. Toothless straightened his posture and huffed, shaking his head.

Then, very reluctantly, he called out to the Terror.

The Terror shot up like an arrow with a surprised squawk. It kicked up a cloud of dust scampering over, its single wing flapping frantically, and then did that weird bowing thing the dragons always did around Hiccup and Toothless.

Toothless crooned and warbled at it. Hiccup began to do the same—then came to an abrupt stop, wheeling around to see if anyone had noticed. The Terror’s head was a blur as it looked between the two. I hadn’t even had the time to ask him what was going on the Terror squinted over at Dogsbreath, head cocked to the side, and yelped at Hiccup. Hiccup waited for clarification from Toothless and nodded.

Puffing its chest up, the Terror yipped and bowed again. It set its little feet in obvious determination and growled, its single wing fully opened and its tail sticking straight up.

Hiccup actually smiled at this. Toothless’ eyes widened in clear surprise; he seemed to have thought that the Terror would refuse.

“Okay,” Hiccup said, taken off-guard himself. “He says he’ll try.”

“R-really?” I asked, trying not to sound too relieved.

“I think he thinks it’s a special mission,” Hiccup said. He held his arms out and let the Terror jump into them.

The Terror certainly _looked_ serious enough for it to be one. Toothless crooned at it, and it squawked and did everything it could to make itself look bigger.

Nodding for me to follow, Hiccup made his way back over to Dogsbreath—who now had a sizable crowd around him.

“Well, ya certainly took yer time, didn’t ya?” Dogsbreath snorted.

“Here’s the deal,” Hiccup said, suddenly just as serious as the Terror. “This Little—this Terrible Terror wants to…work with you. He’s agreed to go with you.”

Both Toothless and I looked to him with wide eyes. His companion seemed to recover quickly, though, returning his attention to Dogsbreath with a stern expression.

“I wanted something bigger,” Dogsbreath huffed. “At least Gronckle-sized. Somethin’ good and strong, able to carry my children away if needed.”

“Well, this Terror is the only dragon who wants to go near you,” Hiccup snapped. He cringed and took in a slow breath. “S-sorry. But this is just how it works. You can’t _pick_ a dragon to like you, just like you can’t pick people to be your friends.”

Dogsbreath scrutinized the Terror with clear disappointment. He lifted his eyes in search of dragons that were not here, and then studied the Terror some more.

The seasoned warrior gave a huge sigh, crossing his arms. “Very well, then. Better than nothin’.”

“You have to treat him with respect,” Hiccup persisted. “If you act like he’s some work animal, he’ll run away and never look back.”

“Alright,” Dogsbreath said offhandedly. “Hand ‘em over.”

“ _Promise_ ,” Hiccup said, holding the Terror closer to his chest. He stared up at Dogsbreath with an intensity that I had not seen in him in a very long time. “Promise to treat him as an equal, and not a pet.”

Dogsbreath’s hard expression loosened as Hiccup’s determined, almost frightened gaze bored into him. I didn’t blame him, to be honest. We were all used to Hiccup being a mediator, and never once had he outright _demanded_ that someone listen to him.

A nerve had been struck _hard_ , and it was obvious.

Dogsbreath straightened his posture, just as surprised by Hiccup’s aggressive persistence as me. “I promise,” he said, the dismissiveness in his voice gone. “I will treat him well.”

Hiccup eyed him carefully. After several seconds, he reluctantly held the Terror out. Dogsbreath lifted his arms, his hands just besides Hiccup’s.

With a final, fleeting glance at Hiccup, the Terror inched a paw out and pressed it into Dogsbreath’s palm. He waited, peeking up at Dogsbreath, and took a few more careful steps up his arm. With a squeak, the little dragon clambered up the rest of the way.

Dogsbreath did his best to look casual about it, but still couldn’t hide a wince when the Terror nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Take good care of him,” Hiccup said. His brows lowered over his eyes, worry aging him in seconds. A pleading tone replaced his earlier confidence. “…Please.”

Toothless lifted his head and took a single step closer, showing all of his teeth and hissing. It was a promise of what was to come if Dogsbreath went back on his word.

“Don’t ya worry,” Dogsbreath said. He met the Terror’s eyes. “I doubt this little thing will cause much trouble.” He spun on his ankle, took a few steps away, and stopped. He tilted his head just enough that he could see us in the corner of his eye. “But…thank you.”

He said nothing more, heading off with the one-winged Terror perched on his shoulder.

Toothless pressed up against Hiccup with a quiet rumble, wings twitching and tail swaying. He didn’t relax until Hiccup returned the gesture. They never let their eyes leave the Terror, so solemn and nervous that it was like they thought that it would be the last time they ever saw him.

The tiny thing twisted his neck around and gave a long outcry.

“Good luck to you, too,” Hiccup whispered.

**o.O.o**

Toothless

I couldn’t believe it.

That Little-Biter was either very brave or very stupid. Or both. Regardless, he had chosen to go with the human “Dog’s-Breath” on his own accord, and the only way I could prevent it now was through a direct order.

To think that that human wanted to _use_ our nestmates, to all but fake a bond for protection…

Yet the Little-Biter was determined, and had claimed that this was one of the few ways he could be “useful”. No amount of me telling him that there was no need to prove himself had convinced him otherwise.

I wasn’t about to sit around and hope that he was successful, however.

“Dog’s-Breath” was just out of sight when I tugged on Hiccup’s fake furs.

“ _Up_ ,” I said. “ _Us go. Me worried and no certain. See human and Little-Biter, see safe?_ ”

Relief loosened his tense posture and he nodded. “Yeah—I’m sorry, Astrid, but we have to go.”

One would have thought he’d told her he was leaving forever, she was so disappointed. “But there’s still some people around. Maybe you can stay a little? This is going really well, Hiccup.”

“ _Oh, no_ ,” I said in a flat voice. “Here is an excuse to avoid more social interaction. What a shame. How unfortunate. My heart bleeds at thought of leaving.”

Hiccup’s brows scrunched up in confusion at my speaking in normal dragon tongue, but he caught on quick enough. “Oh, uh, we _really_ have to go, though,” he said, doing his best to look truthful. He overcompensated, eyes wide and bouncing on his feet and avoiding eye contact.

I _really_ had to teach him how to bluff. The poor Shadow-Blender couldn’t lie if his life depended on it.

“What’s he saying?” Astrid asked, curious now.

“I’m rather hungry,” I mused. “I’d like to go on a hunt, but it’s a tad cold to go swimming. I suppose I must settle for human-caught fish, although it is far inferior to fresh-caught.”

“We’re in a rush,” Hiccup “translated”. He hopped up onto my shoulders to avoid her intense stare. “We, uh…have to check on our nestmates!”

He gave his excuse too fast. Astrid raised an eyebrow.

“ _Sure_ ,” she drawled. “Just like I have to check on Stormfly right over there?”

Hiccup stammered, knowing just as well as Astrid that she had caught him in his lie…if one could even call it that.

Luckily for him, I didn’t care about social conventions and proper manners. We simply didn’t have the time for it.

“I’m done. Bye!” I chirped. With that, I opened my wings and launched us at the nearest tree-cave, even as Astrid shouted complaints below. Once we got to the top, I leapt over its peak and crouched on the other side, out of sight.

“That was kinda rude,” Hiccup said, tugging at my ear. I could still hear the smile in his voice.

“ _Huh?!_ ” I gasped. “ _Oh, no!_ Whatever shall we do?!”

“You know she’s just gonna find us later, right?” Hiccup snorted.

If it were up to Hiccup, we’d still be down there right now. “ _You speak more_ ,” I said. “ _No want wait. Me fast. You slow._ ”

“ _Me_ good _,_ ” he retorted in his squeaky fledgling voice. I snickered, earning myself another ear-tug.

As we bantered, I took us from wood-cave to wood-cave, keeping on the opposite side that the humans had been on to avoid drawing attention. It was lonely, not seeing any of our nestmates up here. It was like visiting a nest long-since abandoned, only finding shed scales and pawprints in the place of warm, living dragons.

Despite my apprehension, I sent a prayer up to the Dragon of the Sun that this plan would work. I didn’t want us to be here without our nestmates, alone and vulnerable and missing them.

We actually beat “Dog’s-Breath” to his tree-cave, resulting in the two of us settling down outside it and poking our noses just enough over our cover to have a good view of it.

After several invigorating minutes of staring at nothing, Hiccup bolted upright. “ _See dragon!_ ”

“ _What?_ ” I gasped, craning my neck to the sky. Our nestmates were on the opposite end of the island; was it an intruding dragon, flying above in broad daylight?

I looked over my shoulder and furrowed my brows at seeing Hiccup pointing _down._

“ _Confused?_ ” I hummed. “ _No see...oh!_ ” I let myself relax a bit. “ _H-u-m-a-n_ ,” I drew out.

“ _Dragon?”_ Hiccup repeated.

“ _No, h-u-m-a-n._ ”

“ _D-r-a-g-o-n!_ ” Hiccup said with much more confidence. I couldn’t hold back a small laugh, and he groaned, “Am I messing it up again?”

I nodded, sending a smirk over my shoulder at him. “Good try, though! Sort of.”

His skin was pink, and he lowered his head in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on it,” he grumbled. “Anyways, Dogsbreath’s over there.”

Wait, what?!

I threw us back under cover, eyes wide. Hiccup laughed, and I flapped him with an ear.

I’d been so busy looking for an attacking dragon that I’d all but ignored “Dog’s-Breath”—and the Little-Biter curled up on his shoulder, almost out of sight. He was being given the same wide girth that Hiccup and I usually got, and many humans were staring openmouthed. He kept his head high, lips pursed and eyes half-lidded, walking at a rather slow pace in an effort to look calm and in-control.

The Little-Biter squeaked something at him, and he jumped in place.

We waited, still as mountains, as the human approached. He was too busy focusing on the Little-Biter to notice us, thank the gods. We weren’t exactly well-hidden, being the only dragons in all of Berk sitting on top of a wood-cave in the middle of the day.

_BANG!_

I nearly leapt off of the wood-cave. A little human burst out of it, rushing at “Dog’s-Breath” on stumpy legs.

“ _Daddy!_ ” She cried. She threw herself at his leg and wrapped her paws around it, resting her chin on his knee to stare up at him. “Whats’at?”

A second later, a slightly bigger, but still tiny human chased after her. “Wait up, Gunvor!”

The human’s eyes filled with warmth and compassion as he crouched down to their eye level. “Settle down, you two,” he laughed. “Look what I’ve got you.”

He reached over and picked up the very confused Little-Biter, setting him on his knee so they could get a look.

The younger human gasped with joy, but the older took several steps away.

“D-Dad?” He whimpered, his hazel eyes huge and little body shaking. “Aren’t dragons mean?”

Hiccup leaned forward, lifting himself a little higher.

“Dog’s-Breath” frowned, his expression blank and difficult to read. “They can be, Hemming.” He gave a sigh. “But people can be, too.”

I took in a breath, sharing an intrigued look with Hiccup.

“Do we keep ‘em?” The youngest asked. “Can I name him? Can I name him?”

A _name?_ I snorted indignantly; dragons did not earn names until they achieved greatness. Humans really _did_ throw names at just about anything.

“We all can,” her father said. “A big, strong name. What do you two think?”

The eldest crept forward, holding his paws close together. He raised a paw and stretched it all the way to the Little-Biter. The Little-Biter widened his eyes in confusion and leaned back. The little human didn’t seem to notice, prodding him right on the nose.

The Little-Biter sneezed. “Ugh!” He complained. “Why are you like this?”

The two human fledglings laughed. The youngest flung a paw out and grabbed onto the Little-Biter’s paw, wrapping her claws around his leg and dragging him forward.

“I wanna hold him!” She said.

“Lemme go!” The Little-Biter squeaked, flapping his wing and pulling backwards. “That hurts!”

I narrowed my eyes and shifted my weight so that I could pounce.

“Hold on, now!” “Dog’s-Breath” reprimanded. He pried the human’s paw away from the Little-Biter, who wasted no time in leaping back up onto his shoulder. “This isn’t a toy, Gunvor. It’s a dragon, and we must treat it well.”

He hesitated, and then lifted his own paw to the Little-Biter.

The Little-Biter narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils in irritation. “You’re lucky this is a mission!” He huffed. Instead of biting or pushing away, he licked the human paw in front of him and sat back with a proud, dignified smile. “See?”

“See?” The strange human repeated unknowingly. “We must be gentle. Then he will like you, and take good care of you two when I’m not able to.”

“Okay…” the older human said. He still looked uncertain, peering up at the Little-Biter like he was three times bigger. “But...can he sleep in your room?”

“I wanna name him!” The younger reminded everybody. “I got a really good one!”

“Dog’s-Breath” grinned broadly. “Oh, Thor, _another_ one of your ideas? What is it?”

The little human crouched and waited for dramatic effect.

“ _Noodles!_ ” She announced for the whole damn island to know, throwing her paws up and leaping in place. “Just like on the big ship!”

Hiccup snickered, covering his mouth with a paw to muffle the sound.

“ _What?_ ” I asked. The word sounded rather silly, but “Dog’s-Breath” had wanted a “big, strong name”...for a Little-Biter.

“It’s a type of food,” Hiccup explained. “Trader Johann brings them from far away sometimes.”

They named him...after food. The fact that he was getting a name from some humans was bad enough!

“What, are they planning on eating him?!” I growled.

During our brief conversation, the humans had discussed the matter further—and it seemed they’d settled on the ridiculous name. For once, I was grateful that the Little-Biter had no understanding of human speech; otherwise he’d be mortified, and would probably call off his “mission” right then and there.

Actually…

“ _Me speak Little-Biter_ ,” I said. “I think he deserves to know what a terrible name they’ve given him.”

“ _No_ ,” Hiccup reprimanded. “ _They go n’st_.”

“ _Nest,_ ” I mumbled, eyes trailing after the humans as they did just that. “Dog’s-Breath” waited for his fledglings to enter his nest first and then closed the barrier to the outside, blocking him and the Little-Biter from sight.

Hiccup sat up and let out a breath. “ _No...bad?_ ” He said. “I guess it could be worse.”

I nodded. “ _Me worried._.. _no like this. Want see Little-Biter._ ”

“ _It is fine_ ,” my brother crooned, wrapping his paws around my neck.

I purred, closing my eyes. Maybe...maybe it would be fine, then. There wasn’t much we could do, anyways; the Little-Biter had dived nose-first into the mission, and the humans seemed, at a glance, to be following through on their promises.

I didn’t like it, leaving the Little-Biter all by himself while the rest of our nestmates remained safe and together, comforted by each other’s presence. But if this worked...if we could somehow find a way for humans to not only tolerate, but _accept_ dragons into their nest…

Well, I would wait to see if this “mission” was successful before I got my hopes up.

Regardless, it was certainly an endearing thought.

**o.O.o**

A few days passed.

Hiccup, Astrid, Stormfly, the other humans, and I made some additional rounds around the nest, trying to convince the humans of Berk to be more trusting and comfortable around dragons. The King accompanied us each time as well, which really only made everything more awkward. Hiccup appreciated him being there, though—if only for the intentions behind the King’s actions.

Each visit was shorter than the last. Fewer and fewer humans were so easily assuaged, and oftentimes the only ones whom responded to us were humans who had already shown themselves to be willing to be closer to dragons.

It wasn’t working—not how we wanted it to. Opinions had been shifted, yes...but not on the scale that we had hoped. Every “tour” invariably brought with it dissenters, and loud ones at that. All it took was one strong, outspoken voice to convince bystanders, bringing us to a standstill.

Hiccup and I spent our remaining time in the smoke-cave, both to work and to try and not disrupt the fragile peace that greeted us in the human nest. The absence of our nestmates was horrible, forcing us to be on our guard at all times. Every eye was always trained on us, every paw twitching towards a weapon.

To add to the tension stalking our every footstep, there was no signs of any further intruding dragons or humans. At times, my thoughts drifted back to the foreign, singing dragons, almost like an insect draws close to a fire; helpless, yet dragged by some unseen force to its demise. The more I thought of them, the more I got a sense of _wrong._

Hiccup and I had requested a small group of dragons to go in search of answers, but they had yet to return with news. They likely would not for a few more days, seeing as they would be forced to check other islands.

I felt as though I was forgetting something incredibly important.

So, with the threat of humans and foreign dragons combined, we were a little jittery by the end of the third day.

“ _Wah!_ ” Hiccup yelped, leaping away from an abrupt sound off to our right. I dropped into a crouch and snarled.

“What?!” The King gasped, settling into a battle stance.

“Gobber” held his paws up, eyes wide. “Woah, woah, woah!” He said. “Settle down! A little noise didn’t hurt anybody.”

I raised a lip at him as he bent down and picked up the metal object that he’d dropped. Easy for _him_ to say.

“Uh, sorry,” Hiccup said. He sent me an embarrassed look and returned to his work. I tried to peer over at it, but he was sitting too far away and his small frame blocked it. He’d told me that he’d had second thoughts about his “other secret” and had to “fix it”, and thus had put me in time-out.

Literally.

The moment he caught me snooping, he’d swat me away with obscene claims that I was “ruining the surprise”. It was driving me _insane!_ Especially considering that he had been _done_ with it, but had then changed his mind and gone back to work on it!

“ _Hiiiiccuuup_ ,” I moaned. “ _Me_ bored _and_ tired _and want_ know! _Me no need surprise!_ _Me very good and need know!_ ”

“The more you complain, the more tempted I am to work on it more,” Hiccup said with a mischievous grin.

I sat up straighter, fixing him with a fearsome glare. “You wouldn’t.”

Hiccup snickered. “Have I told you that I really admire how patient you are?”

“ _Always!_ ” I said, lifting my nose up. Hiccup tried to throw a drawing-stick at me, but it hit the wall a few feet off to the side. “ _Oh, very good! Need more practice?_ ”

“Do you want me to finish this or not?”

“ _Yes!_ ” I groaned as loudly and dramatically as I could. I flopped to the ground, making sure the impact was loud, and curled my tail around front paws. Resting my chin on my tailtip, I pouted as pointedly as I could at Hiccup.

He watched this all with a raised brow, rolled his eyes, and spun around to work on his project.

“Besides…I think that I’m actually done.”

I rocketed over so fast that several objects were knocked to the floor. The King let out a surprised grunt, and “Gobber” went into a rant about being careful that I ignored.

“ _You done? You done?!_ ” I shifted from side to side as Hiccup flung his paws over it to hide it. “ _Me see! Me see! Me see!_ Hiccup!”

“Alright!” He said, waving a paw at me so he could get up. “But outside first.”

I turned tail, charged through the smoke-cave, sat outside, realized Hiccup hadn’t followed me, and ran back in.

“Hiccup, what’s going on?” The King asked, eyes wide. He was inching closer and closer to his son, but stopped a measurable distance away.

“No runnin’ in the forge!” “Gobber” snapped.

“ _Walk fast! Walk fast!_ ” I pressed, stepping behind Hiccup and giving him a little boost via headbutt.

Hiccup stopped on purpose, digging his paws into the ground and letting all of his weight fall back onto me.

I set him with a flat look, lifting an eyebrow and pursing my lips. Then I stooped and picked him up by his fake furs like he had a scruff.

All of his breath came out in a whoosh, “ _Oof!”_

“Toothless!” The King said, alarmed now. “Set him down!”

“U-uh, don’t worry, Dad, this is fine,” Hiccup groaned. Under his breath, “I’m just suffocating, no big deal…”

I took us outside and set him down. Hiccup immediately spun around and pretended to claw at my nose, holding his project in his other paw.

“ _Me walk!_ ” He hissed playfully.

“ _Fledgling_ ,” I teased, lifting my own claws.

We swatted at each other for a few seconds, only to recompose ourselves when the King and “Gobber” joined us.

“So yer _finally_ done with these?” “Gobber” said. “Meanin’ you can _finally_ work on our work orders?”

Hiccup’s expression gave way to anxiety. “If all goes well,” he said. Shrugging, he frowned and said, “I’m not sure how well this’ll work.”

Before I could scold him, he swiveled around and tottered away. His base-fin, which was attached to the whole length of his back, swayed with the movement.

“ _Confused, where you go?_ ” I asked, spinning around to follow.

“ _Wait!_ ” He squawked, stumbling in a circle back towards me.

“... _What?_ ” I asked, stopping and tilting my head aside.

Hiccup dropped to the ground, sitting on top of my tail and blocking his project from my view again. His soft paws ran over my scales, and a few moments later I felt something sturdy and itchy being tied around in a few places. It had a solid weight to it, almost like…

Almost like…

My wings dropped and my heart throttled in my chest.

I knew what the surprise was.

Hiccup rose to his feet and turned to me with a meek smile. “Alright, so don’t get your hopes up _too_ much, but—”

“ _TAILTIP-FIN!_ ” I cried in delight and shock, whipping my tail up to get a view of it.

It was made of the very same material as Hiccup’s wings, but with metal in it as well. Flicking my tailtip-fin experimentally, I took _very_ quick notice that it didn’t move with my real one, but still! Hiccup had _made_ me a tailtip-fin with his own two paws! That it wasn’t completely functional was besides the point!

Spinning in a tight circle, I swung my tail to and fro to see how it moved with me. It was light and anatomically correct, and it was stuck in a flat, flared, slightly-raised position. I positioned my real tailtip-fin to match it and imagined how the air would move underneath me.

“I had to lock it,” Hiccup explained nervously. “I made this first, and I wanted to show you this and my wings at the same time, but...that didn’t work out. But after everything with the Bog Burglars, I realized that it would be limp and useless the way I had it. I ended up picking this position, since I thought it would be the most doable. You can glide, and you might be able to fly completely straight if there’s no wind, but…” His shoulders drooped. “You can’t turn or change altitude, so it’s not _really_ flying...I’m sorry, Toothless.”

“ _Sorry?_ Sorry?!” I repeated. I swiveled towards him and pressed our foreheads together, purring so much that it vibrated my ears and side-frills. “ _No, Hiccup...me love this. Thank you, thank you, thank you!_ ”

His anxiety seemed to melt away, leaving him with a small, tired smile. Hiccup wrapped his paws around my head and purred. “It’s the least I can do,” he whispered. “For everything.”

“ _Oh, Hiccup_ ,” I crooned. “You don’t have to _repay_ me. _Love you._ ”

His grip tightened. “ _Love you._ ”

We held still like that in the sunset of Berk, the sky lit with streaks of rose and amber and soft shadows shifting across the ground.

“So…” Hiccup said, pulling away. Peeking shyly at me through his fur, he murmured, “Do you want to try it?”

“ _Yes! Us together_!” I said, nodding towards my back. “ _Up!_ ”

Uncertainty filled his eyes. “But I’ll just...weigh you down.”

“ _Hiccup stupid_ ,” I moaned with an eyeroll, using a wing to usher him towards me. “ _You no fly, me no fly. Us fly together, or no fly._ ”

Before, it had been different. Hiccup had been asking me to completely wipe away the consequences of our actions, while he struggled and clawed to reach the same level. But Hiccup had his wings now, and I this tailfin. That meant that for the first time in moons, we could fly _together_ , and all by Hiccup’s own paws and hard work—not a magical fix that was wholly unfair, no matter how much Hiccup disagreed.

“ _Up!_ ” I repeated, bouncing in place like an overexcited fledgling.

It didn’t take much else to convince him. “Okay,” he purred, clambering on.

I shook my body, taking note of how the new weight made my tail slower and heavier on the left side. It was scarcely a problematic change, but noticeable nonetheless. Closing my eyes, I mapped how I would approach this. It would be best to leap off an elevated platform, just tall enough to make sure it worked but short enough that if it failed, we wouldn’t plummet to our deaths. Then Hiccup could leap off of me and—

“Hiccup,” the King spoke up, reminding us that we had spectators. I didn’t even bother sending him a look; I wasn’t going to let him ruin the moment. “Hold on a second—did you hear that?”

I blinked over at the human King. He looked both confused and concerned...and he was squinting up at the darkening sky.

“Hear what?” Hiccup asked.

The King’s expression hardened, his eyes steeled and cold. Without breaking his sight from the sky, he growled, “Do you feel that, Gobber?”

“Aye,” the human said in the same dark tone. “Just like old times, eh?”

The King snapped his attention to us. The weakening sunset gleamed in his eyes, filling them with fire. “Hiccup, Toothless, get back inside!”

“But—”

“Now!” The King ordered.

Hiccup flinched close to me at his harsh tone. I reared back myself, opening my wings and lifting my tail.

I opened my mouth to growl back at him that we could stay outside if we wanted to, that we had important matters to address, that all of Hiccup’s work had _finally_ come to its end and that we weren’t going to simply go back inside and wait around.

My words were swallowed by the deafening boom and roar of an explosion.


	9. Chapter 9

 

Toothless

The fireball was as hot as the sun, searing through my scales even at the distance I stood from it. It loomed overhead, drifting deceptively slow as it shifted from brilliant oranges and yellows to thick, midnight-black smoke.

I opened my wings. Hiccup steadied himself on my shoulders, a low growl in his throat.

“Hiccup, _wait!_ ” The King said, alarmed, but he was too late.

In a single bound, we were on top of a wood-cave. I sprinted along them, keeping parallel to the fireball as it sprouted like a mushroom further overhead. The center of impact was directly in the middle of the human nest, with many burnt and injured Vikings scrambling around.

The fireball had turned almost to smoke at its base, but the heat was still roiling, distorting the area with invisible waves and burning all who drew close. I opened my wings and tailfins, throwing us right into its center.

The updraft filled my wings, throwing us up into the sky. As one, Hiccup and I twisted our necks and locked our eyes on the artificial tailtip-fin.

Higher, higher, higher we went—dangerously so.

We did not fall.

“ _YES!_ ” Hiccup whooped, throwing his paws up victoriously. The heat grew more intense.

I flapped experimentally, keeping my body and tailfins straight. The wind became rough and turbulent beneath me, and I gave a sharp whine as I tipped almost completely to the side. Hiccup cut his celebrations short and threw his weight in the opposite direction. It was enough for me keep us stable, allowing us to lift high above Berk. The fireball began to trickle away beneath us.

“Wow,” I breathed, taking in how small everything looked.

I had not thought that I would be able to see this again. That I would one day feel this freedom and this joy once more.

“… _Wow_ ,” I said again. Euphoria filled my body, leaving me speechless and lighthearted. It was all I could do to choke out, “ _T-thank you, Hiccup! Thank you!_ ”

A dark blur whipped below, drawing a surprised yelp out of both of us—and reminding us that now was not exactly the best time for this. Flapping a few more times, I made sure we were level before whipping my head around in search of intruders. From this high up, we could see almost all of Berk.

That included all of the foreign dragons flying low over it.

Several more booms resounded as wood-caves were set aflame, sending the humans inside fleeing outdoors. The intruders flitted about them, not even bothering to fly above into the safety of the smoke. It took me a moment to realize: the intruders were staying low _because_ they were diving upon the humans, snatching them up in their talons.

The sight filled me with sudden, unexpected rage. These humans were dangerous and idiotic, but damn it, they were _our_ humans!

I wasted no more time.

“ _OUR NESTMATES!_ ” I bellowed. “ _TO US!_ ”

Every dragon snapped their head up at my call. A distant response came from the forest.

Seconds later, the treeline erupted with the silhouettes of scores of dragons. Our nest was twice the size of this group of intruders—the sight alone should have been enough to scare them off.

“We overpower you!” I cried to the stalling intruders below. “Leave now, or face your death!”

There was a pause.

The intruders redoubled their efforts, lunging at the humans with vigor.

“ _Toothless!_ ” Hiccup hissed.

Gas flung through my throat. I took a moment to aim at a larger pocket of foreigners.

The purple light of my shot flared in contrast with the amber-orange of the flames below. It exploded with a great boom, knocking all who flew near it head-over-tail.

Despite the risks, I tried to pick up speed by flapping my wings. As expected, the air became unsteady and turbulent beneath us. To accelerate, my tailtip-fins needed to be flat and drawn-in. However, in order to stay stable while flying _straight_ , they needed to be in the position that Hiccup had set for me, which now created drag. The air sliding underneath my body was bouncing off of them and bumping us around. I flapped harder to try to cancel out the rough winds, but my body was already rocking wildly side to side.

A gasp escaped me as an unexpected current came from below, knocking me almost completely over. Hiccup leaned hard in the opposite direction, and it was just _barely_ enough for me to level out.

Our nestmates made it to Berk precious seconds too late. The air below us filled with fire and fangs as dragons locked in combat.

“We need to lure them up here!” Hiccup gasped. “Unless we want the entire village to burn down!”

That was glaringly obvious—in their attempts to steal our humans, the intruders had foolishly pinned themselves close to the ground. The result was that any and all fire hit human structures, all of which were flammable.

“Drive them higher!” I commanded to our nestmates below. “Get them away from the nest!”

At the very same moment, Hiccup yelped, “Look out!”

My first instinct was to look _down_ , expecting to see someone lunging at my exposed stomach.

It wasn’t until I felt the sickening, gut-lurching emptiness on my back that I realized my mistake.

Talons swooped just past my ear. An opalescent, colorful dragon went whirling past with an annoyed snort.

Hiccup had leapt away just in time—and directly towards the calamity below. With a panicked gasp, I threw my head down and scanned the air as rapidly as I could.

_Where is he? Where is he?!_

There was a burst of activity several winglengths below. Hiccup flared his wings, nearly tipped over, and rose unsteadily on an updraft provided by a stray fireblast.

“Woah!” He cried, tilting his wings wildly to keep from flipping over. I nearly turned my wings into a blur, forcing myself through the air like I was slogging through mud. The intruding dragons were everywhere, and he was just as vulnerable as I was!

He began to laugh.

“ _See?_ ” He cried, throwing a paw down to go into a wide, barely-controlled turn back towards me. “I’m me!”

“ _Hiccup!_ ” I scolded, growing even more annoyed when he shot me a ridiculous grin. Movement flickered below him, and adrenaline rushed through me. Now in fear, I shouted, “ _Hiccup!_ ”

Hiccup tucked his wings in and dropped like a stone, leaving the intruder behind him exposed. I spat a fireball right at them, sending them spiraling away.

Even farther below now—and moving much faster—Hiccup opened his wings. This time, he couldn’t catch an updraft. He shot right over Berk.

And straight into the center of the battle.

“Uh, _Toothless!_ ”

“ _Hiccup!_ ” I screamed. Swinging my tail up, I tucked my wings in and forced myself into an angled dive. The wind whipped around me, roaring in my ears so much that it drowned out everything else. All I focused on was Hiccup as he twisted in a wild, desperate attempt to avoid colliding into dragons or fire.

An intruder charging through the air, spun around, and snapped their tail at him. It impacted with a sharp _CRACK_ , flinging him towards me.

“NO!” I snarled. I snapped my wings open and threw my tail down to level out. But I over-corrected, and began to flip over backwards! The world became a blur. Dragons screeched—fire blazed in all directions—I couldn’t level out—I was going to tip over completely!

Just ahead of me, Hiccup pulled his wings open as far as he could. He didn’t stall like he clearly intended to, but it was enough—he lagged midair just as I barreled into him. I clutched him to my chest, wrapped my wings around him, and let us fall.

It was a relatively short distance to the earth, but the impact was still unforgiving. Sharp metal and stones littered the ground, digging into my scales and rubbing them raw. I grit my teeth and bore the pain, grateful that it was _me_ instead of Hiccup.

On the ground, I could make out human cries amidst the roars of dragons, the King’s voice loud and petrified among them. Our nestmates raged above, while the intruders responded almost pleadingly. Yet with each passing second, more and more distance was placed between the intruders and our nestmates.

“ _Hiccup okay?!_ ” I gasped, wrenching my wings open.

He moaned, holding his midsection. “Just…bruised,” he wheezed, rolling off of me and crouching on four paws. His wings splayed at his sides, so real-looking that he almost appeared to be the fledgling he sounded like.

Baring my teeth, I got to my feet and stood beside him. Throwing my head up, I threw my wings open over Hiccup and roared with all the air in my lungs, “Leave our territory at once! As Saviors, we _command_ it!”

This well and truly gave them pause. The fact that these dragons had continued their attack after witnessing how outnumbered they were spoke volumes of their intellect. Yet even _they_ seemed to know something about us.

It was enough.

Our nestmates redoubled their efforts, driving them higher and further away. The heat was so intense that I could feel it from the ground, and blood rained from the sky as many of the ignorant dragons took heavy wounds.

“ _RETREAT!_ ”

The call came from a dragon hovering above his nestmates, watching the battle from above. He was the very same colorful dragon that had taken a swipe at Hiccup just a few moments ago.

Something about him was…

I glanced at Hiccup and furrowed my brows upon seeing his equally-confused expression.

“ _Me know him,_ ” Hiccup mumbled, his eyes never leaving the sky. “… _why here?_ ”

We had no further time to discuss.

The intruders finally swiveled around and sped away to the northwest. Our nestmates gave chase, snipping at their tails so that the message was loud and clear: you are not wanted here.

Just as suddenly as the intruders had come, they were gone, taking with them the answers that we so desperately sought.

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

I knew that voice. I knew that accent.

The memory froze me on the spot, a wave of helplessness overcoming me. The pain in my stomach transformed into an altogether different wound, transporting me through the past.

“Why did they come back?” I whispered. I remained crouching, arching my spine and lowering my head.

“ _Me protect you_ ,” Toothless hissed with vehemence, extending a wing over me. “ _Me promise._ ”

It was then that, far too late, I realized that we should have sent some scouts after the intruders. Now our nestmates had returned, triumphant. They landed on buildings and made themselves as big as possible, roaring victoriously and blasting fire at the air to show their strength.

They had come in the night again, but with a bigger group this time. They wanted something.

But what, and _why?_ Were they going to come back again, or had we scared them off for good? Were they really dumb enough to try and attack a nest that outnumbered them _twice?_

My head spun. I hated this, feeling so _vulnerable_ , sitting around and waiting for the next awful thing in the never-ending line of awful things to happen. I growled uncertainly, and Toothless echoed me.

Lost in perplexion and anxiety, I was too distracted to notice anyone approach. Toothless wasn’t.

His alarmed yelp drew me out of my stupor. Before I knew it, Toothless had spun around, removing his wing and leaving me exposed.

Dad met my eyes and stared, confused and distraught and even a little sad. The firelight from the still-smoldering village cast long shadows across his face, giving him an almost ghastly appearance.

 _Why does he look so upset?_ I thought, which was quickly followed by, _Is he mad at me? What did I do?_

The battle had left me jittery and shaking, and still adrenaline rushed through me all over again, ripping all of my thoughts up in a whirlwind. My heart pounded loud in my ears and my chest ached. Just at the edges of my mind, a phantom shadow stalked, the memories it carried threatening to flood over.

He was looming over me, just like—just like—

Dad backpedaled, holding his hands up. Confusion swept through me again, until—

I cut my growl off with a jolt, forcing myself to stop baring my blunt, useless teeth at him. Gasping for breath, I closed my eyes, resting my head in a hand.

 _It’s not real_ , I told myself. _It’s not real. I’m okay._

“ _Me here_ ,” Toothless crooned, nosing my side.

I took one more deep breath to steel myself. Then I opened my eyes, put my hand down, and rose to two feet instead of four—the _human_ way. Toothless brought his wing up around me again.

Dad was now a pretty far distance away, eyes glinting in the darkness. My eyes were lame in the low light, and all I could make out was that he was still holding his hands up like he thought I was going to lunge at him. Again.

My shoulders drooped, and I hung my head in shame.

“Hiccup?” Dad asked, his voice cracking. “I-I’m sorry, I—“

I shook my head, grimacing with anger at myself. Why hadn’t I said anything? Stupid!

“N-no, Dad, it—it wasn’t you.” I forced myself to meet his turbulent eyes and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

It was so hard to meet Dad’s pained, guilty expression. “Can I come closer?” He asked.

I nodded, and took several shaking steps forward myself. The fear in Dad’s eyes faded, and with a gentle smile, he closed the gap between us.

In that same small voice, he said, “Are you hurt?”

I shrugged and shook my head. “Just...winded. And worried.”

There was a beat where nobody said anything. I fiddled with my wings, tucking them almost guiltily back into my suit.

Then, with a stab of shame, I tacked on, “Are…are _you_ okay?”

Dad nodded, but his expression was grim. “There’s been a lot of structural damage, and many villagers are wounded from being picked up. Luckily, nobody was carried off.”

That was a relief. “I guess…it could be worse?” I tried.

Dad hummed in agreement. In a sudden change of subject, he blurted, “Hiccup, is that…is that _safe?_ ”

He gestured at all of me. I tipped my head to the side, confused.

Toothless groaned in exasperation, and I realized what he was talking about.

“My wings?” I asked, glancing down at myself. “Yeah, I—I just need practice, is all.”

Dad did _not_ like the sound of that. In seconds, he took on his stern, commanding, about-to-ground-me tone that I had grown to love as a kid. “You were almost killed, Hiccup. When you fell off of Toothless, you had no control. I thought—I thought I was about to watch you—”

He didn’t finish, closing his eyes and putting his head in his hand.

I looked at my feet, holding my arms to my chest.

“I’m…sorry,” I stammered, sharing a guilty look with Toothless. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

Dad looked like he had a lot more that he wanted to say. He paused, and then shook his head. “Hiccup…”

“Chief!”

It was Gorge. He rushed over and came to a stop beside us. His hair and clothing were singed and he was covered in bruises, but he seemed more excited than anything.

“That was quite a fancy fall, Hiccup,” he said to me. To Dad, he reported, “We’ve just got most of the fires out, but there’s at least a half dozen houses that need rebuilding.”

Dad straightened up, going right back to business. “I saw. We’ll have to relocate all of the families affected to Town Hall for now. Make sure they get provisions and some bedding.”

“Aye,” Gorge said. “And what about the dragons?”

Dad glanced up at our nestmates around us, the large majority of them still sitting like giant statues on the buildings and craning their necks towards the stars. To me, it was a comforting sight—but to the rest of the villagers…

“The dragons protected us,” he said. “Leave them be.”

“Right-o, Chief,” Gorge said with an easy grin. “I must say, I’m curious to know if Dogsbreath’s little Terror was of any use.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Dad sighed. “Let’s go see how much damage was done.”

**o.O.o**

I took one step into Town Hall and froze on the spot.

The numbers of wounded were much more than Dad and Gorge had let on. Half of the entire building was strewn with the injured and homeless.

Berk was hardy; a small dragon raid shouldn’t have been any concern. This had made me think that the effects of the raid had been minor. This was serious—this was real, and this was _bad._

People with burns charring their skin, painting them red and black and leaving them writhing on the ground in agony. People with bite and claw wounds, suffering from poison and shredded flesh and blood seeping through bandages. Children, men, women—there was no distinguishing between. I could almost smell the infection in the air, the sharp, bitter tang of blood. The scent of fire and smoke was just as overpowering, hanging like a smog and stinging the back of my throat with its thick, choking claws.

My mind flung to a time when I had done this.

When I had _wanted_ this.

Nausea leapt upon me. I covered my mouth and nose with one hand and leaned on Toothless with the other, taking in thin breaths through clenched teeth. Toothless brought his wing up around me, shielding me from the outside world.

“ _It is fine_ ,” Toothless murmured. “ _Me here. No Queen._ ”

My heart ached, my lungs burned. I closed my eyes and focused only on my breathing, trying to force it back down to a normal pace.

“ _It—is—fine_ ,” I gasped, throwing all of my attention on each word just to stay in the present.

By the time I’d stopped making yet _another_ one of my embarrassing and selfish scenes, the entire room had noticed us standing there and had fallen silent. I, on the other hand, felt more exhausted than I had in days. I slumped against Toothless.

He nosed me to hop on his back, and I did so without complaint.

Dad stepped up, blocking us from view. Gothi and Gobber had already appeared from the masses and walked over. They had a quick, hushed conversation. After a couple of seconds, Dad turned and gestured us over.

With an uncertain growl, Toothless crept into Town Hall.

Dad got right down to business. “Will the dragons stay in the village?” he asked.

Toothless and I hadn’t discussed that yet, too shocked by everything to even _think_ about that.

“ _No want_ ,” Toothless said. Then, sighing in defeat, he amended, “ _Worried…enemy nest attack again? Need nestmate here._ ”

“If those dragons come back, we’ll need our nestmates here,” I translated. “But…are they safe here?”

Dad, Gobber, and Gothi looked at each other uncertainly. We all knew the answer to that question.

“Do ya know if they’ll come back?” Gobber asked. “What was all that about anyway?”

I shrugged with wide eyes, and the helpless gesture just made me feel all the more vulnerable. Because we _didn’t_ know. All we _did_ know was that we had recognized the leader of the apparent raid, and that they really wanted to grab people for some reason. They seemed to want something, and I had a sinking feeling that it had to do with us…that it was, somehow, our fault.

Worse still, the only other thing we knew was that these other dragons would risk a fight against a nest that far outpowered them. Which, in hindsight, was pretty terrifying. How much more reckless could they get? Why would they go to such lengths? What had made them reach such a desperate plan?

What was the alternative, and why was it worse enough for them to do _this?_

Dad took my silence in and turned to the hushed Town Hall, which was only punctuated by the moans and sobs of the wounded.

“Our dragons will stay in the village to keep watch over it,” he announced. His voice echoed in the stillness. “We don’t know if those other dragons will come back, but they will be ready to defend our home just like the rest of us. Now all of you get some rest—it’s late, and we’ll be needing to be in our top shape.”

Not a single voice rose in defiance or confusion. It was clear that everyone here was just as shocked and exhausted as I was, and just wanted to go to sleep and pretend like this night had never happened.

It was almost sad. As far as raids went, this one had been fairly tame. The entire village wasn’t in need of rebuilding, and relatively few people were injured in comparison to…to the Queen’s raids.

But it was the first raid Berk had experienced in over a year. It had been sudden, unprovoked, and malevolent. There had been an _intention_ behind it, not just hunting or overtaking of territory. The norm had been burned away just as the buildings and warriors had been, and now the uncertainty of the situation was real instead of hypothetical. We were no longer just hearing stories now.

The word “war” drifted across Town Hall like a phantom, consuming all it touched.

The raiding dragons of the north had found us.

**o.O.o**

“ _Hiccup certain?_ ”

“ _Yes_ ,” I said, giving myself a good shake to loosen my muscles. “ _Us need practice._ ”

“ _Need sleep_ ,” Toothless argued. “ _Our nestmate need good King. No us good King when no sleep. Us_ bad _when no sleep._ ”

“ _No,_ ” I said stubbornly, even though he was right. “ _Us need practice! Our nestmate need this!_ ”

“ _Hiccup stupid! You tired_ and _me tired! Us need sleep!_ ”

I began another retort, but dissolved into a coughing fit instead. The village was dark and quiet—but smoke and ash still hung in the air as a firm reminder that this supposedly-peaceful night had been alight with fire just an hour ago.

I couldn’t stand by and let the numbers in Town Hall grow. It was _our_ fault those dragons had come here, I just knew it. So it was our responsibility to stop them if they came back.

Toothless and I needed to be able to fly. As I had learned a lifetime ago, the best way to learn was through trial and error.

We were actually perched on the bell tower of Town Hall, one of the tallest places in Berk. Dad had sent us off to “bed” a while ago, but had no clue that we’d backtracked here again. I only hoped that he wouldn’t be too suspicious or upset when he realized that we weren’t at home.

“Come on, Toothless,” I finally said. “Are you telling me you _don’t_ want to test your tailfin out?”

I slid off my very disgruntled brother and purred, butting my head against his. He huffed and made a big show of “grudgingly” returning the gesture.

“ _Okay_ ,” he groaned. He got to his feet and looked back at his tailfin. “ _Now?_ ”

“ _Yes! You go!_ ” I chirped. “Also, I’ll probably need you to catch me…”

“ _Oh, yes? What surprise!_ ” He set me with a flat look. “ _Me know._ ”

With a final roll of his shoulders, he wiggled his rump, crouched down, and launched from the bell tower. He made his wings and tail flat, heading in a straight line towards another relatively-tall building hunkering down halfway across the village.

For a moment, he looked like he was _really_ flying. Sure, he was going at gliding speed, but he wasn’t falling when normally he would have been. A huge smile grew across my face, and I bounced up and down with excitement. It was working—it was _working!_

Toothless began to flap his wings to speed up. I went rigid.

He began to rattle midair as his wings created unsteady drafts beneath him. He stopped for a second and waited. Then, instead of doing whole, complete downstrokes, he only did short little half-flaps.

I couldn’t tell how much it worked—Toothless had maybe a few seconds of practice before he suddenly threw his tail down and flared his wings. For a heart-stopping moment, his body rocked from side to side so much that I thought he would miss his mark. Thank the Dragoness of the Moon, he regained just enough control to _not_ crash through the building he was trying to land on.

He was so far away from me that I couldn’t even see his expression—but judging by the way he was running back and forth and leaping into the air, he was just as euphoric as I was. The panic faded as quick as it came. I crouched down on all fours and gave myself one more good shake.

The village seemed to stretch out before my eyes, becoming so much longer and desolate.

“I can do this,” I whispered to myself. My mind flashed back to that horrible night—falling into darkness, into death—and I shoved it aside with a snort.

I wasn’t going to be useless anymore. I didn’t have a choice.

I threw myself off of the bell tower and snapped my arms out. The air filled my wings like sails catching the wind.

For once, I didn’t feel so empty anymore.

I lifted up for a short moment before beginning my slow descent, the houses and shops below zooming by at a mildly-alarming pace. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw that my base-fin was doing its job and doing it _well_ , keeping the air around me stable enough to glide.

The lightness I had felt earlier this night filled my heart, bringing with it a bright and vibrant joy that had become rare and precious in these past weeks. Even though it was the dead of night, I couldn’t contain my excitement. “ _Look!_ ” I cried to any dragon that was actually awake enough to listen. Risking a glance down, I met the eyes of some very sleepy and confused nestmates, every one of them staring slackjawed up at me.

This only made me laugh more. I tilted from side to side experimentally, swaying back and forth and slowly picking up more speed the more I angled myself downwards.

The building I was aiming for suddenly leapt into view. Right. I’d forgotten about that.

Back in the battle, I had tried to slow myself down by flaring my wings. It hadn’t worked, though, and I’d been smacked pretty hard a few seconds later. Now I narrowed my eyes with determination.

My wings would be useless if I couldn’t slow down before landing. They would practically be a death sentence every time I used them.

I wrenched my arms backwards as far as they would go. At the same time, I threw my legs down and out as wide as I could get them. I had been flat in the air before to get as aerodynamic as possible. Now I was doing the complete opposite, splaying out to cause as much drag as I possibly could.

The result was that the air rammed into me with such a force that I became dizzy. My breath was knocked from my lungs like I’d been punched in the gut. I had expected this—but I had been so used to it as a dragon that I’d never thought it would be a big deal.

I was _super_ wrong.

I bared my teeth in a grimace as the air tore at me, my wings stretched out as thin as they would go and my arms and legs burning. I couldn’t breathe, the air was forced from me so quickly.

Toothless skidded down the roof to my level and reared up, holding his paws out to me. I slammed right into his chest and he toppled backwards.

We both plopped onto the roof.

“Okay,” I wheezed, letting myself go limp. “Gotta…work on…slowing down.”

“ _Me too_ ,” Toothless whined, splaying his wings out. “ _Me think easy, but very hard!_ ”

Both of let out long groans that melted into fits of laughter.

“ _Us fly!_ ” Toothless said in breathless wonder. “ _Us_ fly!”

Sudden, giddy energy filled my limbs. “Well, come on!” I leapt to my paws with a huge smile. “Let’s keep trying!” Toothless didn’t get up right away, so I shot him a sly look and added, “ _Me first now_.”

“Ah, _no!_ ” Toothless yelped, getting to his feet in record time. “ _Me go now! Goodbye!_ ”

And just like that, he’d picked some random direction and flown away. Once again, he flapped very shallowly—and this time, it did not disrupt the air enough to knock him off-course. He noticeably sped up and managed to keep himself level. Eventually, an oncoming building forced him to land on the ground. Had it not been there, though, he could have kept going and going so long as he stayed stable midair and maintained his lift.

I followed without hesitation, trying to sway back and forth in the air as I did so. I couldn’t speed up, but the simpler shape of my wings and body meant that I could shift direction a lot easier than Toothless could. The only downside to it was that I always needed to tuck a wing down to shift direction, meaning that I lost height and gained speed.

Luckily, Toothless was there to catch me so that I didn’t become a splat on the ground. He lifted himself up on his hind paws, bracing to catch me.

Our eyes met, the both of us filled with excitement and joy.

 _Something_ flickered.

“ _Wah!_ ” I yelped, immediately becoming unstable and wobbling. Toothless was swaying, and I crashed right into him.

We both sat there, completely still and stunned.

“ _H-Hiccup?_ ” Toothless asked in a small voice.

Faster than ever, I closed my eyes and tore through my mind, searching every last inch of it for _whatever_ that was.

The empty shell of magic was still there—and just as desolate as it had always been. Nothing had changed at all.

I relayed this to Toothless, and the two of us sat there, dumbfounded.

“ _This…good?_ ” Toothless asked. “ _No certain…me very interested and confused. Practice more, see again?_ ”

The moon rolled across the sky as we repeated our system: climb up a tall building, jump off, try not to die when you land. Toothless experimented with speeding up, but he struggled with anything past gradual acceleration. I, on the other hand, focused on making sure I could actually _move_ in the air. I could only take flying directly into a group of angry, raiding dragons once in my lifetime, after all. I’d rather just be able to swerve away than get stuck right in the middle of it and pray my wings didn’t catch on fire.

With each landing, we tried to repeat what had happened. Yet whatever that flicker had been, it did not return. Surprisingly, this didn’t crush me with disappointment as much as I thought it would. Instead, it made me…hopeful.

It wasn’t our link. We knew that, because I had no magic. But it was _something_ , and for a fleeting moment, it was real. Maybe…maybe we could get it to come back if we tried hard enough.

As we practiced, we became quite the spectacle to our nestmates. Everywhere we went, encouragements came from all around us. The joy of flying coupled with this strange, new _thing_ left me as light as my wings made me. Time became inconsequential, and the short minutes we spent flying felt like an eternity, like it could never stop.

I hadn’t had this much fun in weeks. Just like with speaking with Toothless, I found it easy to keep my mind off of everything pinning me down. I mean, we were _flying!_ Sure, it was mostly fancy glides, but it was better than nothing.

It was like I had rediscovered a part of me that I had lost and searched the ends of the earth for. When I opened my wings and flew, I wasn’t some crippled, useless dragon.

I was whole.

I was _me._

The joy it brought revitalized me, whisking away the exhaustion that had been plaguing me for weeks. Every moment I landed, I couldn’t wait to take off again, to feel the sky carry me along as easily as it once had when I’d been a _real_ Shadow-Blender.

I was impatiently watching Toothless fly off of the bell tower again when a sharp chirp came from my right.

“Ah!” I yelped, spinning and nearly falling off the building. “Oh! _Hello, Stormfly!_ ”

Stormfly beamed and bowed. She bounced in place and flapped her wings, squawking excitedly. She sounded just as amazed as the rest of our nestmates, and I heard several questions and a select few words. It might have been just her, but it seemed easier for me to distinguish her undertones from her words.

Still, she talked _way_ too fast.

What I got first was some complaints about sleeping and Hookfang—she seemed annoyed she was the only one awake, and I gathered _something_ about Astrid, although I didn’t know what. Then came a barrage of questions, including how we were flying again…and also, if she could join.

I purred, leaning forward and nosing her. “ _U-s…g-o_ ,” I said as slowly and clearly as I could.

Stormfly tilted her head completely to the side and asked, “ _Huh?_ ”

With a bright smile, I pawed at her in a “follow me” motion and took to the air.

Stormfly squeaked in surprise and a little bit of fear, giving frantic chase. She leveled out with me and gaped, eyes huge and astonished.

“ _Wow!_ ” I heard her say. I dipped a wing and swerved right under her. Just beneath her, I flipped over on my back, poked her in the stomach with my cold, prosthetic foot, and flipped over again. With a quick angle of my wings, I came out on the other side of her, snickering at her flabbergasted expression.

With narrowed eyes, she sent me a playful hiss and began flying in tight circles above and below me. I couldn’t really compete with that, so instead I ducked and curved, trying to throw her off-course. I was too slow to pose a challenge, but the two of us were still having a great time.

The only problem was…all of that fancy turning had made me lose a lot more height than I originally planned. I blinked in surprise when I finally focused on what was in front of me and did a quick mental calculation. With a start, I realized that the roof was going to be just _above_ me by the time I reached it.

Meaning that I was going to crash.

“Uh… _Stormfly?_ ” I asked, the slightest bit of tension escaping into my voice. “ _Help, please?_ ”

Not a moment later, Toothless shouted something at her.

She flapped cheerily next to me, her tongue lolling from her mouth and head tipped to the side. She ignored Toothless and asked me a few confused questions—she didn’t see the problem. She didn’t know I couldn’t change altitude.

“ _U-p!_ ” I said in the clearest, most drawn-out command I could.

Stormfly squinted at me. I could almost see the gears turning in her head.

Her eyes lit up with understanding.

“ _Okay!_ ” Stormfly squawked, and then zipped away.

Oh, Dragoness of the Moon.

Toothless roared at her again in exasperation and fear; it was something about flying up. I began to try to turn away from the building I was aiming for, throwing a wing down as far as I could. Hopefully there wasn’t another building right behind it, because that was where I was going.

Stormfly called from somewhere behind me. I leveled out, glancing over my shoulder—

_Fire._

“AGH!” I yelped as the blast went directly underneath me. “What are you—oh, thanks!”

The fire had created a powerful updraft, filling my wings anew and shooting me upwards. It was a little too close for comfort, but it got the job done. I had lifted enough that I wouldn’t crash.

I had just a second to pull up and slow down at a dizzying speed, and Toothless snatched me out of the air and back to safety.

He wheezed a thankful prayer to the gods and then asked, “ _You okay?!_ ”

I was still winded, but I laughed with delight anyways. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind doing that again!”

“ _Stupid!_ ” Toothless growled. He turned to an excited Stormfly and lightly scolded her. She drooped, eyes wide and hurt, and keened an apology to me.

“ _It-is-fine_ ,” I purred, waving a dismissive paw. “ _Fun!_ ”

Toothless rolled his eyes, but Stormfly perked right back up. Then he whipped right towards me.

“ _Um_ —” I began.

“ _Fly_ careful _, Hiccup_ ,” Toothless said, turning the stern lecture on me. “ _Me scared and worried! You need fly careful and see_ here _,_ ” He pointed in front of himself the human way, “ _and no_ this!” He gestured wildly all around him at everywhere else. “ _This very stupid! Hiccup_ smart!”

Essentially, he was telling me, “Watch where you’re going, you fishbone—you’re smarter than that!”

“ _Sorry_ ,” I said earnestly, crouching on my belly and lowering my head and eyes submissively. The high I was riding faded, and in a more subdued voice, I mumbled, “I’m just so _happy_ being able to fly, I guess I kinda…” I shrugged. “I forgot that it can be really dangerous.”

“ _Me too. No worry, Hiccup—me very, very happy_ ,” Toothless purred, using his claw to tip my chin up so I met his eyes. “ _Hiccup need careful, okay? Promise?_ ”

“ _Me promise,_ ” I said. “I’m really sorry, Toothless. I didn’t mean to scare you so much.”

“ _P-r-o-m-i-s-_ e,” He sounded out with another roll of his eyes. Before I could parrot it back at him, he cuffed me over the head. “ _And good!_ ”

“Ow!” I complained, swiping at him and missing. “Well, fine then! I’ll show you just how careful I can be! Let’s go again!”

**o.O.o**

The moon was beginning to set when _we_ had to be the ones to send Stormfly off to bed. She, along with a few other nestmates, had taken to flying around with us, providing the occasional thermal for me so I wouldn’t smash into an obstacle and meet an unfortunate end. Still, the majority of our nestmates had spent quite a lot of energy in the battle, and had none to spare to play around with Toothless and me.

The minority, however…

I stepped forward on all four legs and opened my wings to look bigger. “ _You sleep!_ ” I squawked at the fledgling Flame-Skin. Looking to his playmates, I added, “ _And you! And you!_ ”

They tipped their heads and peeped in confusion, eyes huge and wings fluttering.

Halfway across Berk, Toothless roared something along the lines of, “ _Go to sleep, you little runts!_ ”

“ _No!_ ” All of them whined.

I lifted a paw and pointed the human way at another building, where several nestmates were knocked out cold. “ _G-o_ ,” I said. In a kinder, yet commanding tone, I added, “ _Okay?_ ”

The little jerks pretended not to see where I was pointing. The Flame-Skin shouted a challenge and rocketed from the ledge we were on, flying towards Toothless. The other two shrieked in indignation and followed in pursuit.

Toothless gave them an annoyed, unimpressed look that was usually reserved for me. With a chuckle, I took off after them, opening my wings and shifting along the various air currents without second thought.

The fledglings felt it first.

All of them gave shocked, frightened screeches as their wings suddenly filled with air, knocking their wings back completely. They were too young and inexperienced, and I watched with horror as they all lost control and began to fall.

“Hang on!” I cried, tucking my wings into a dive—

A gale crashed through me with the force of a hurricane. I wheezed as all the air flew from my lungs and spots filled my vision. Berk became a whirlwind of darkness and light, and “up” and “down” blended together so thoroughly that I had no clue where I was going.

I flared my wings and fought to gain control, throwing them up and down with the wild winds. After a solid second of struggling, I righted myself—upside-down.

A sharp screech came from just ahead. I flipped around and yelped when a fledgling tumbled right into me.

There was a moment where I got my bearings straight enough to predict what was going to happen.

I wrapped my wings around the fletchling and braced.

We crashed into the ground—my vision went black—

I came to a second later, rolling across the street and pain slicing through my right shoulder where we’d impacted. We hadn’t even slid to a stop before I was surrounded by a good five or six nestmates, all of them demanding what happened and if we were okay.

Groaning, I opened my wings and let the fledgling stumble to the ground. She was a little Two-Walker, and judging from the way one of her wings was drooping, she’d been injured. An adult Two-Head leaned down, picked her up by the scruff, and carried her off. Two other dragons joined him, each carrying a fledgling.

“ _S-sorry_ ,” I managed to get out, rolling slowly to my stomach. Everyone leaned down and nosed me up, and I gave them all a grateful purr.

“ _Hiccup!_ ” Toothless cried from afar. Our nestmates perked up and stepped aside to make room for him.

He was flying as fast as he could, wings working dangerously fast. He let himself drop above us, just before he crashed himself.

“ _Me okay!_ ” I rushed as he scrambled over to me. I put my right paw down and flinched, cradling it against my chest.

Toothless narrowed his eyes. “ _No okay! What that?!_ ”

“ _Do not know_ ,” I said, shrugging and then grimacing at the pain. For clarity, I went on in Norse, “I don’t know—it felt like really strong wind, but it came out of nowhere.” Looking up, I squinted and added, “And look, there aren’t any clouds. It’s not like a storm’s coming.”

An adult Two-Walker chirped at Toothless, but I didn’t pick up any vocabulary. She sniffed at the air and bared her teeth in a growl. Toothless did the same, scenting the air and eyes flicking up at the sky.

“ _What?_ ” I asked.

“ _Two-Walker think enemy dragon_ ,” Toothless growled, “ _but me no see or smell._ ”

“ _Me too._ It was wind, nothing physical.” I clarified. “I wasn’t _pushed_ off-course.”

Sudden wind currents were common, but we were in a flatter part of Berk, meaning that it couldn’t have come from the ocean cliffs or mountains. Still, any dragon could cause that amount of turbulence if they were flying fast enough. But they would have needed to be close—close enough that everyone, including me, would have seen them.

We didn’t have time to mull it over.

Toothless had just stepped over to help me to my feet when a familiar, terrified voice called out to me. Our nestmates whipped in the direction it came from and formed a circle around us, wings half-open and heads lowered.

“ _It-is-fine_ ,” I told them, and Toothless grunted the same phrase in normal dragon.

With reluctant bows, our nestmates crept away and let my father pass.

“Hiccup!” He breathed, beginning to rush towards me and stopping himself. “Can I—?”

I had only nodded for a second before he fell down in front of me, his hands held just inches away from me and eyes huge. I leaned into Toothless.

Dad sat back on his heels and gasped, “Are you alright? I’ve been looking for you, I saw all the fire, I saw you fall—” He cut himself short. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

He’d keyed in on the limp way I was nursing my right arm. I grimaced, shifting around. I was still crouched on all paws, and I turned my body so that my left side was facing him. It was awkward with my prosthetic leg, but I managed. “Um…”

“You’re hurt.” This came out saddened and unsurprised, like he’d been waiting for this to happen. “Is it bad?”

“N-no,” I said, doing everything I could to look casual and totally-not-injured. “It was just a freak accident. I’m okay, really.”

Both Dad and Toothless shot me unconvinced looks. Even a few nestmates raised their brows at me, having understood either my words or intent. I lowered my head, trying not to feel too ganged-up on.

Dad sat back and slumped. He stared, conflicted, and then sighed. “Hiccup…”

“I’m okay—“

“You are _not_ okay!”

I flinched like he’d lunged forward to strike at me. My heart picked up twofold, and every muscle in my body tensed. Toothless and our nestmates growled.

Dad didn’t back down, scowling with fear and anger. “I am _not_ going to stand by anymore and let you get yourself killed, Hiccup!” he asserted. “I know it’s hard for you. I know that I can’t even begin to understand what you’re going through. But _this!_ ” He gestured at all of me. “This is pure recklessness! This is _asking_ to be hurt!”

I stared, wide-eyed. I tried to respond, but my words died on my lips.

I hadn’t seen him _this_ angry with me in weeks, and it awakened that fear that I loathed with every inch of my being, that had wrestled control of my life from me and reduced me to nothing countless times. I clutched at my chest, fighting for breath.

Dad stopped abruptly. He looked through me like he was searching for something, and with a deep breath, he put his head in his hand and closed his eyes.

“I’m putting an end to this.”

I dropped my hand. Toothless lowered his head close to me. “W-what?”

Dad met my eyes, and his worried anger gave way to something sad and resolute. “I’m sorry, Hiccup…I am truly, truly sorry. But I want you to know that I’m not doing this to punish you. I just want you to be _safe._ ”

He sat up straighter and took a deep breath, stalling just a second longer.

“I forbid you from using those wings any longer.”

A beat passed.

“ _What?!_ ” Toothless and I yelped. Toothless’ shock exploded into fury, and he snarled several insults and “you can’t tell us what to do”s at my father in rapid succession.

I stared into my father’s pleading, guilty eyes, holding my good paw to my heart with a shudder. To abandon flying…it felt _wrong_. It wasn’t _me._ It wasn’t that I wouldn’t, it was that I _couldn’t._

I began to shake my head.

“N…no,” I whispered. I opened my mouth to elaborate, but I couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

“ _Every_ time you use those wings, you get hurt,” Dad said, his expression distraught and his voice quivering. “Toothless won’t be able to catch you every time, just like what happened just now!”

Toothless let out an outraged hiss, “ _Never again! Me here!_ _Me_ always _here! Stupid human! Stupid, stupid,_ stupid!”

“It was an _accident_ ,” I pleaded. I felt lightheaded, but not in the good way anymore. “It wasn’t me, it was just a freak gust of wind. It won’t happen again, I’ll—I’ll be more careful—”

“You’ve told me that three times now! What will happen the next time there’s an accident?!” Dad demanded in that same pained voice. “I’m sorry, Hiccup. But it has to be done, for your _own_ sake. Please, try to understand.”

Exhaustion blasted through me, _again_. It all laid heavy on my shoulders, _again_. The raiding dragons and the singing dragons. The Bog Burglars and the other tribes. The people of Berk. My father.

I bared my teeth and wrinkled my nose.

“I _won’t!_ ” I cried in abrupt, searing anger, facing towards him and lifting my uninjured wing. “I worked _so_ hard on this! Why don’t _you_ understand?”

“I’m _trying_ ,” Dad begged. “But this is too much, Hiccup! Don’t you see the danger of this path you’re heading down?”

“No! I don’t!” My throat began to well up, and I swallowed heavily. “I thought—I thought you were trying to _help_ me. Not _force_ what you want.”

Dad was already shaking his head, his expression pained and lost. He lowered his voice in stark comparison to my yelling, trying to calm me down. “I’m not, Hiccup. But _you_ are, and it’s going to end up with you being killed in another one of these ‘freak accidents’.”

“No, it won’t!” I snapped.

“You don’t know that!” Dad responded in kind, his voice filled with terror.

“Neither do you!” I returned. My chest burned with the hammering of my heart, and I was shaking so much I could hardly see straight. “This is one of the few things that makes me feel _better_ , Dad! I thought you were _okay_ with that! Why _aren’t_ you?!”

Dad’s eyes filled with pain and pity, and he threw his hands out and pointed at my body.

“Because you’re not a dragon anymore, son!”

A dark shadow swept upon me, stifling the light within.

 _Yes I am!_ I wanted more than nothing else to snarl back, to flare my wings open, to shriek every word in dragon I knew at him, to command my nestmates like the King I was, all in a showcase of just how wrong he was.

But…

But he wasn’t.

...wasn’t he?

“No,” I breathed, my face slack and my eyes unfocused. “No, that’s not...it’s not…”

He was wrong. He was wrong! He had to be!

“ _No_ ,” Toothless leapt to my defense. “ _You wrong! Hiccup, no listen. Up!_ ”

Dad’s gaze bored into mine, filled with sorrow and pity.

Because at the roots of it all, that’s what all of this was, wasn’t it? Wishful thinking? Trying to be something I _wasn’t_ anymore? Because if I didn’t, I would have to face the truth—I would have to deal with this harsh reality that I so vehemently wanted to transform into what I wanted, into something long-since lost to the past.

If I couldn’t be _me_ anymore, then what was I? What was the _point?_

“No!” I said again. I shook my head, at a loss for words.

“Hiccup…” Dad crept closer. He reached for me with a shaking hand, the moonlight glistening in his eyes.

I leapt to my feet. The sudden jostling made me hiss with pain. Still, I lurched towards Toothless, my breath thin between clenched teeth.

“I don’t...understand,” I struggled to say, my head still foggy, leaning on my brother like he was the only thing keeping me here. “I’m…I’m...”

 _A liar_ , the shadow seemed to whisper in my ear. _A fake._

_A human._

“ _No_ ,” I growled. Without even meaning to, my eyes caught on my artificial wings, on Toothless’ artificial tailfin.

A violent, visceral shudder wracked through my limbs, making me pull my wings in and clench my hands into white-knuckled fists.

Fake. It was all fake. None of it was real.

“ _It is fine_ ,” Toothless murmured, nudging me closer to his shoulders. “ _Us go. It is fine._ ”

“It’s not,” I ground out. “It’s _not!_ I—I—”

 _What is_ wrong _with me?_

Dad had slowly inched himself upright, and again he held out complacent hands, his eyes forlorn but his jaw set with determination. “Hiccup, I know—I know it’s hard. But it’s something you _have_ to face, son.” He extended his hand out to me, wide and open. “It’s the only way you’ll recover.”

I stared at his hand, at the gentle way he offered it to me. “But my wings have helped me recover,” I rasped.

Dad’s voice never lost its firm, solemn quiet. “They’re not wings, Hiccup. And you are not a dragon.”

A cold spike flew from my heart and through my veins. Toothless gave a low, rising growl.

 _No!_ I wanted to shriek at him. _You’re wrong!_

Dad inched his hand closer.

He had to be wrong!

All of it was boiling over—all the confusion, all the pain, all the desperation. My mind went blank as I stared at him, lost and almost _drowning_ in it all.

I did the first—and only—thing that came to mind.

I looked my father in the eye, bared my blunt _human_ teeth, and let loose a searing, thin, _confused_ hiss.

It was the first time I had ever hissed or growled at him on _purpose_ —and the horror that the lit up in Dad’s eyes showed that he knew the same.

Dad wrenched away, and before I could think twice, I leapt up onto Toothless’ shoulders.

For a broken moment, Dad looked at me like I really _was_ a dragon, his skin corpse-pale, his eyes bulging, his mouth parted in horror.

“H-Hiccup?” He breathed. His voice tight with the slightest hint of betrayal, “Hiccup, please, we’ve—we’ve been doing so well—please, just _try_ to listen to me—”

I met his eyes, a brief flash of guilt sweeping over me. A thick lump formed in my throat.

And Toothless _roared_ at him.

“Hiccup!” Dad begged. “Don’t—”

But we were already gone.

**o.O.o**

Stoick

I found them in the cove.

They were surrounded by their kind, the whole lot of them packed together on the ground like Terrors squeezing onto a warm stone. The lake nestled in the middle of the cove roiled with deep ripples, distorting every reflection within it.

The strength in my legs left me.

I didn’t know what to _do_ anymore.

Lifting my eyes to the heavens, I wondered if she was watching from Valhalla—my beautiful Valka, always the kinder of us, the more reasonable, the cool touch there to quell a raging fire burning out of control. I could almost feel her disappointment thundering down upon me with the fury of the gods, blazing me with shame and sin.

Gods, how I wanted to make things right. Gods, how I _begged_ them for guidance, how I turned over every memory in my head, how I stared into the fire every night as I wracked my useless, stupid brain for answers. With every dream, I relived the past as a ghost, howling pointlessly at myself to stop.

I only knew what I could, what I was, and it was not enough.

And my son was reaping the penalty for it, again and again and _again._

I would not let him see the ocean of tears that welled in my eyes and trailed down my cheeks. I would not let him think for one second that it was his fault, his responsibility, his mistake.

I had done him wrong enough, more than his ever-soft heart could take. Deep down, I knew that he would try to forgive me—he had always been as gentle as his mother, inheriting that thoughtfulness and empathy that was so rare in Berk that it was scorned as softness. I myself had been caught up in it, always so desperate to _change_ him, to make sure that he would be able to survive in a cruel and heartless world without me.

I had never thought that I would be the source of the cruelty and heartlessness. Even now, with reality hammering down upon me like a blacksmith beats his sword into shape, I was making the same mistakes over and over.

Hiccup was the forgiving type, a rarity in the North.

I honestly did not know if he could do it, nor that I deserved it. Not this time.

The broken, conflicted way he had snarled at me seared in my eyes, almost blinding me from the real world. My words had cut into him like dragon talons through flesh, like fire through a fragile house, like a ship through the unbroken sea. I had swept away his protection like a hurricane bowling over an island, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

Unhappiness. Defeat. Hopelessness.

They had swam in those lost and confused eyes. I would have feared the worst for him had Toothless not been there keeping close watch over him.

I would have feared him already gone.

This whole time, I had waited for Hiccup to finally accept the truth. For him to move on. I had begged and prayed for it, just to see a real smile from him again, to be able to hold a conversation with him without fear lighting in his eyes.

He had been improving. I had been filled with hope.

Far too late, I realized that his progression was directly tied with his slipping away, with his becoming more and more engrossed in what he wasn’t. With each step he _fought_ and _clawed_ his way closer to being a dragon, with each delusion he and Toothless fed into each other, he came closer and closer to setting himself up for crippling failure, a pain that cannot be recovered from.

In the wake of a battle, of seeing him injured, of seeing in the future a worse fate for him, I had tried to prevent this failure in a last, desperate act—in a stubborn, thoughtless, heartless, _stupid_ barrage.

By some cruel turning of fate’s hand, it was _I_ that had been the one to push him over the edge, when I had been trying to coax him from it.

Taking a deep breath, I wiped my tears away and set my sights back into the present. I wasn’t going to let this lie here and fester. That was a mistake I would not make again.

Hiccup needed his father. Not the Chief.

I took every weapon from my belt and stepped into the cove.

Dragon eyes snapped open. Gnarly teeth flashed. Fire lit up the darkness.

Hundreds of dragon eyes gleamed in the shadows, burning with hatred and the intent to kill.

“Toothless?” I called.

Hisses and snarls swept through the cove, like phantoms whispering sad truths.

The dragons parted, and the unholy offspring of lightning and death met me midway. He almost blended into the shadows, his form difficult to discern from our surroundings. The dragon was far smaller than myself, but here in his territory, he seemed to tower above me.

His brilliant eyes bore the same pain as my son, the same shocked betrayal that had glimmered in his eyes. As much as it pained me and filled my heart with shameful jealousy, this dragon had been the one to support my son, to comfort him, to love him. He seemed to feel Hiccup’s pain as his own, and to know what was best for him—even more than me.

Baring teeth and gums, the dragon narrowed his eyes and settled into a defensive posture. He kept his head held high and grunted once.

_State your purpose._

The stars in their multitudes were replaced by dragon eyes looming above. Heat pulsed from every direction as the dragons openly let their fire seep from their maws, a moment’s decision from turning me to ash.

“Is he alright?” I whispered.

Toothless raised a lip and shook his head.

I almost rushed forward, but remembered myself. To nobody, I pleaded, “Is he—is he asleep?”

The dark dragon nodded. The knife held against my heart was lifted, and I forced a deep breath to calm myself down.

Toothless took one step forward, claws boring into the soft earth, and threw his head. He lifted that clawed paw and _pointed_ , just like a person. The wall of dragons inched closer like the tide draws ever-nearer, unstoppable.

_Leave._

I met the dragon’s gaze, letting the hate and betrayal in them bore into me as I rightly deserved.

And I dropped to my knees before him, letting myself sit exposed underneath his teeth and fire.

A hushed whisper, a surprised blink, and the Night Fury turned suspicious eyes onto me. He approached me regally, wings held wide open as they melted into the night. He only stopped when he could come no closer, and he rose above me like a dragon thrice his height.

“I have done you both so much harm,” I whispered. “I am not here to beg forgiveness, because I have done nothing to earn it.”

The malice in the dragon’s eyes made them almost glow, shining bright in the moonless sky.

“Some time ago, I approached you to ask for guidance,” I went on. “It was a selfish thing to do, to ask you to speak to me on Hiccup’s behalf.” I looked down at my hands. “Although he has hardly spoken to me on these matters, his actions say enough. I just wasn’t listening.”

Nothing moved around me. Every dragon was so tense and still that one could hear the soft wind blow by and the small splashes of the lake.

I lifted my gaze to those scorching, scornful eyes. “It kills me to see him like this, Toothless,” I admitted in a weak murmur. “He’s so unhappy. He does his best to hide it, but he can’t. It’s eating away at him, and I’m terrified that soon there won’t be anything left.”

Now something else replaced the fury in Toothless’ gaze.

It was fear.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to have my son back,” I said. “But this isn’t Hiccup. This is forcing him into a life he despises. He’s a ghost of what he once was, and...and I cannot stand by that. I want my son back, and that means I want him to be _happy._ I want him to be free of this suffering. I _love_ him, Toothless, and I…”

I took in a shuddering breath.

“…I want what’s best for him.”

Pain pulsed through my heart, but I had already come to accept it. This, I could do for him.

“Please,” I said.

I stared deep into Toothless’ eyes.

 “Please return him to his dragon form.”


	10. Chapter 10

 

Toothless

The cove was as silent as the dead, and just as cold.

My breath caught in my throat and my heart thundered in my ears. I could almost convince myself that I had been tricked by the human or that I’d somehow misheard him. Not because I didn’t _want_ to hear what he’d told me, but because I simply could not believe it.

He wanted Hiccup to be a dragon again, and maybe just as much as we did.

The sincerity in the King’s eyes was what finally broke the spell locking me in place. I curled upon myself, hanging my head and wings, leaving myself vulnerable before him.

“…You can’t, can you?” The King murmured in sudden realization. More to himself, he said, “Of course…why else wouldn’t you have?”

I lifted my head to look at him, almost awed at the disappointment in his drooping shoulders and downcast eyes.

Swift as lightning, I realized just how much of a gods-damned _fool_ I was.

I wanted to hate the King. After everything he had done to us, after how difficult it had been adapting to life on Berk, I had _craved_ for a scapegoat…and the King had been the perfect fit. It was so easy to blame everything on him, especially with his reluctance to punish us for our mistakes. His desperation to rebuild the broken bond between him and Hiccup was obvious, and I had still had no problem criticizing his every move.

The King wasn’t completely at fault, and despite all his efforts, I had always been treating him as though he was. I had never let myself open up to the possibility of his redemption, and in doing so, I had created a barrier between him and Hiccup.

A thought snapped to the forefront of my mind, and my heart sank.

Was all of this…my fault?

Had I been more open, had I been more encouraging towards the King, had I not been so quick to snatch Hiccup away and flee just like I’d done a few hours ago, would we even be here now? Had _I_ been the one preventing the mending of their relationship?

I didn’t know. Gods damn it all, I wouldn’t _ever_ know. Regardless, the thought that I had indirectly caused my brother, and even the King, so much pain…

A shudder crept down my spine.

I didn’t want to waste time mulling over it anymore. All I could do was move on, for all our sakes.

I leaned down to the King’s eye level. The very sight of him bowing before me gave me a sense of wrong, like it should be myself in his place instead.

He grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself for my strike.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him.

Closing my eyes, I drifted closer, hesitated, and pressed my forehead against his.

The King stiffened, as did I.

Several breaths later, a soft paw brushed against my temple.

Unable to bear the sight of him bowing to me any longer, I ducked my head under his arm. The King jolted, but then let me help him to his feet, his paw still a light touch. He waited for me to back away first, his eyes wide and uncertain.

For several moments we stared into each other, flanked by Hiccup’s and my nestmates.

“We...need to get Hiccup,” I finally murmured, turning away and nodding for the King to follow. He fell into step behind me easily, almost as if he had understood.

I didn’t know what to do—but I did know that, more than anything, the both of us needed Hiccup here. Because _Hiccup_ had to hear this from his father. And _I_ needed Hiccup to be here, so that I wouldn’t make a giant disaster of this. Again.

The thought of Hiccup hearing his father’s request both made my heart sink and lift with joy—that he would find relief in the source of his grief. I wanted to lift my head and snarl a curse at the gods for their cruel sense of irony, that only _now_ , after _all_ of this pain we had endured at the feet of the King, the Queen, and fate— _now_ was when we _finally_ found acceptance. Had it been just a few moons earlier, then none of this would have ever happened.

Had it been just a few moons earlier, then perhaps...perhaps Hiccup would have still been a dragon.

I stopped where I had been walking, my claws digging into the soft earth and my head bowed. The King halted, shooting me a concerned look.

The shock of the King’s words had worn away, leaving behind a dull emptiness that sucked away at me. I _wanted_ to grant his request, more than anything, more than I could have ever dreamed.

It wasn’t possible.

...wasn’t it?

I had already failed my brother once. Was I doing it again?

Was it... _selfish_ of me to outright forbid an attempt, when it was the thing he wanted the most? Or was it tough love, to know its dangers and prevent him from recklessly throwing himself into it as he always did? Was it fair to deny, or _unfair_ to allow?

I felt as though I had suddenly crashed through solid ice, having been certain it was solid until the moment it shattered beneath my weight.

My thoughts of this had always been grounded in pessimism; Hiccup could not be returned to his true form without the very real risk of death, and therefore, it was no use toying with ideas. But the King’s desperate plea had thrown fire into that carefully-constructed defense, burning it away inch by inch like the slow and steady crawl of a forest fire.

It _wasn’t_ possible. For it to be safe, at the very least. I knew that. I _knew_ that! Why was I doing this to myself? Why was I letting myself plummet down this dark path, where nothing but pain and disappointment awaited me?

But…

“Is it possible?” I wondered aloud, eyes trailing up to the Dragoness of the Moon above.

Almost immediately, an elder Flame-Skin stepped in front of me, the moonlight glistening across his aged gray-yellow scales. He bowed deeply and said wearily, “My King, I know that in the wake of battle, it is tempting.” He gave a long sigh. “Very tempting...but I will not participate in such an act.”

Another elder, the blind Little-Biter, hobbled up on her stringy legs and dipped her head low. “Nor will I.”

And another, a Two-Head, “And with great sorrow, nor will I.”

There were a sizable amount of elders in our nest—at least a score, maybe two. My heart began to hammer as, one by one, they stepped forward. As one by one, they refused their aid. As one by one, they openly defied me, one of their Kings and Saviors.

The elder Hum-Wing, whom had been in our flare when we fought the Queen, was the last to lumber forward. She spread her paper-thin wings and bowed. “And that makes me the last, my King.”

A stunned silence overcame myself and the rest of our nestmates. Every dragon openly gaped at the elders for what they had done. To defy a King or Queen was treasonous, an act of the lowest disrespect. It was a great insult to a King to be challenged, especially in this manner. It carried the strong implication that he was thought to be incapable of protecting his home and nest—the sharpest sting to a dragon sworn to lead.

To defy a King so openly could easily mean banishment from the nest.

Shock mingled with anger, confusion, _shame_ , relief. I stood there, well and truly at a loss for words. That the most highly-respected members of our nest, and a close friend at that, would openly and unabashedly do this…and when I was at my weakest, without Hiccup at my side, filled with doubt...

“...why?” I finally said.

The elders shuffled, and the Hum-Wing stepped forward as their speaker.

“You know this as well as I, my King,” she rumbled, her eyes sympathetic but her voice strict and stern. “To request an attempted transformation of our King is to request his death.”

I lowered my head and pinned my ears, both furious at myself and frustrated with their open defiance, even though I knew that they were right.

The Hum-Wing’s expression softened. With a less-scolding tone, she said, “Medicine-leaves and magic are not handy when there is too much internal bleeding, nor if organs are malformed or completely absent, nor when bones and joints are broken and twisted.”

Every dragon in sight, myself included, grimaced at the mental image. A horrible fantasy sprung into my mind, of _Hiccup_ broken and dying like that, and all at our own paws. It made my legs almost lose their strength, a spike of fear to shoot through me.

The Little-Biter let out a wheezy laugh. “You are always so _serious_ , Hum-Wing,” she croaked. She hobbled towards me and stopped just at my feet. “Come down here, if you do not mind, my King.”

With a twitching tail, I lowered my head. The Little-Biter purred, pressing her forehead against mine.

“There you are,” she murmured. She withdrew and blinked her blind eyes up at mine. “You are young, and have been thrown into a position you were never quite ready for. I do not blame you. The battle for our home was a difficult test for you Kings, and I understand how you could almost convince yourself that you must do this for the better.”

She sat down and let out a long sigh. “Ah...but we have always known the King cannot return to his Shadow-Blender form. And it is, I think, for the best. I know it is hard for you to understand, and I suppose...that only comes to me through my own old age.” She shrugged, ruffling her translucent wings. “This is not simply a matter of body, but of mind, my King. Even a miracle like changing the King back would not _truly_ heal the shadows that haunt him.”

The rest of the elders murmured small agreements.

I met all of their eyes—none of them resentful, all of them kind and worried—and dropped my head. They had made up their minds, a decision that had been made moons ago, and yet it still stung like the first time they had delivered the news.

It was _humiliating_ to be talked down to like a scolded yearling over something I already knew, and without Hiccup besides me, at that. But I supposed it was something I deserved, for having even brought it up in the first place.

“V-very well,” I whispered, staring at the soft grass below. A beat passed, and with a sigh, I added, “Thank you for your honesty.”

The Little-Biter gave a rattling laugh. “And just like that, you’ve passed another very important test, my King.” She nosed my forehead. “A wise King takes his nestmates’ thoughts into account...something the Queen never even allowed in the first place.”

I took in a shaking breath, swallowed, and nodded. “Thank you,” I said again, more sincerely now.

The elders bowed, as did I. I turned back towards the King, who was extremely confused, and motioned us onwards.

“Is Hiccup over there?” He asked, his voice tinged with the slightest bit of anxiety.

I nodded. Like the rest of our nestmates, Hiccup and I were taking turns sleeping while the other half stayed on-watch. Having just been attacked, no dragon was too keen on leaving our nest vulnerable again.

“Is he...with the rest of the dragons?”

At this, I shook my head; some had been left behind in Berk, just in case.

The King pursed his lips, looking above. “Ah, so the rest are flying above?”

I halted mid-step.

The speed at which every dragon that understood Norse looked up would have been almost comical at any other time. The rest remained hyper-focused on the human King and myself, completely unaware.

There were dragons flying far above—the only indications of their presence being their shadows racing through the dimming stars.

“Nestmates!” I growled, eyes wide and ears pinned. “Enemy dragons! After them!”

“ _Understood!_ ” They cried. The cove filled with gales as our nestmates launched into the air, the sudden peace and stillness filled with the roars of dragons and wind.

At the very same moment, far off in the distance, there was an explosion.

It came from Berk.

The King and I both froze, whipping towards the sound. Within moments, the King had collected himself and whipped towards me, his expression stony and serious, even as an orange glow erupted above the treeline.

In a stern, commanding voice, he said, “Toothless, stay here with Hiccup.”

I balked at him. “ _What?_ ” I hissed, whipping my tail. Anger and frustration swept through me, and I struggled to contain it.

The King drew himself to his full height, and declared with all his authority, “Hiccup is in no state to fight when he’s injured. You have to keep him here, where it’s safe, and not up _there_ with all the fire. If he could barely keep himself alive earlier, he’s a disaster just waiting to happen now.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and lifted my wings. I’d had enough of being talked down to tonight. “Our nestmates need us—”

“Stay! Here!” The King growled, jabbing at the ground with his paw. “I’m trusting you to keep him safe, Toothless!”

We met our eyes. Neither of us moved.

The King must have seen something in me, because he swiveled on his foot and charged out of the cove. With a disgruntled snort, I turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, towards the cave Hiccup and some of our nestmates, including the fledglings, were still in.

None of them were at its entrance. With my heart hammering in my ears, I leapt into it at full speed, only to stumble to a halt.

Hiccup had been with Stormfly, Hookfang, and the fledglings. Now he was struggling to keep them all calm, being the only adult for them to look to. He was speaking to Stormfly and Hookfang in a soothing voice—but suddenly, his dragon-tongue seemed to be failing him. He would attempt to speak, only for frustration to mar his voice, leaving it sounding garbled and meaningless.

“ _Hiccup!_ ” I shouted, scrambling in.

Hiccup spun around, his eyes huge and skin pale. “Toothless! What...”

“ _Enemy nest here! Again!_ ” I hissed.

Hiccup bared his teeth at the exterior of the cave. “That’s what I’d thought,” he growled.

The cave filled with light.

A moment later, and an ear-splitting boom rattled the cove, sending debris raining down from the ceiling of the cave and the outside.

The fledglings fled to the back of the cave, squealing in terror. Stormfly and Hookfang backed up with them, providing a shield with their bodies.

Hiccup was on my back before the boom of the explosion had faded. I risked poking my head out of the hole and scanned the cove, gasping for breath. Almost immediately, Hiccup hissed a warning, eyes locked above. A high-pitched whistle filled the air.

Hiccup, our nestmates, and I all scrambled to the back and braced ourselves against the cave walls, anticipating the heat of fire to swim over us.

There was no fire—but there _was_ a soft grunt as a stranger landed at the cave’s entrance.

“Do not fear!” Came the stranger’s voice in a panicked, odd accent. “Please, we can help! Call off your nestmates!”

I gave him no warning.

Within the blink of the eye, I was upon him, clamping onto his neck with my claws. The intruder cried out in fear and alarm, whipping his head in an attempt to throw me. He took off from his perch, flinging us into the sky at too high a speed for me to let go. Hiccup’s claws tightened painfully around my neck and side-frills.

With a final swing, I lost my grip. Hiccup and I tumbled through the air with twin shouts.

I sighted the ground and twisted my torso to match it. Snapping my wings out, I flung my tail behind me and fought to level out, twirling from side to side. The wind was raking through my wings from all directions, threatening to strain and tear.

Spinning one more time, I waited for us to be righted-out and clutched my wings in a dive. After a few seconds of freefall, I flung my wings out and flared my tailfins into a gliding position. The force of slowing down threatened to topple me over, and I counteracted it with shallow flaps. It was enough to maintain lift evenly from my nose to tailtip-fins.

After several second’s worth of wild see-sawing, we leveled out just above the forest, facing towards Berk in the east. The dragon that we had attacked was gone, and there weren’t any above us. The sun was rising.

Panting from exertion, I squinted and realized:

That wasn’t the sun.

“Oh, gods…” Hiccup whispered.

Berk was up in flames.

Fire was streaking through the sky above and inside Berk. The enemy nest had targeted the humans once more. Even from this distance, I could see that their group was much, much larger.

They were evenly matched with us now. Fear bloomed within my chest.

Two raids in one night? Reinforcements on the second attack?

What did they _want?_

“ _Us protect_ ,” I snarled with fury.

With several half-flaps, I picked up speed towards Berk.

Hiccup was frozen on my back, his breaths coming in and out in sharp wheezes. In a small, lost voice, he said, “I…I can’t.”

I glanced over my shoulder, eyes wide. “ _Yes you!_ ” I said. “ _Hiccup, you smart and good! It is fine—me promise!_ ”

His dim eyes were locked on the fires afar, his face pale. “I’m just dead weight,” he breathed. “Everything I do is fake. I can’t do anything without needing you to catch me.”

“ _No, Hiccup_ ,” I said, forcing my tone to be calm and comforting. “Me _need you._ ”

Hiccup’s expression contorted, and he tightened his claws. “I’ll just drag us down. I can’t do _anything_ except worry everybody.”

“ _No—_ ”

“I’m a _human_ , Toothless!” Hiccup cried. “What good am I?! No matter what I do, I’ll always fall!”

I gaped at him, at a loss for words. “ _Hiccup…_ ”

“I can’t…” He buried his nose into my neck and shuddered. “I can’t fly, o-or speak, or fight…I’m completely useless! Everything I do is just me lying!”

“ _No!_ ” I hissed. “ _Hiccup, you wrong! You hear me?_ _Listen me!_ ”

Hiccup ignored me. “I can’t even protect one little fledgling…”

I shook my head vehemently, my heart hammering. “ _Hiccup, you wrong._ _No you fault! You think me ready, or smart, or no scared? No, Hiccup! Me need_ you! _Nestmate need_ you! _Father and human need_ you!”

We were almost upon Berk now. The heat of the fire could be easily felt—as did the updrafts.

The first one hit us hard, flinging us astray. We were flying too low to the treeline, and as I tipped to the side, my wing caught up in the canopy. I had no other choice: I had to clutch my wings in, or risk snapping them against the merciless branches below.

We fell through the trees just outside of Berk, and it was only through dumb luck that I was able to open my wings with enough time to soften the impact. I landed hard and eased myself into a sprint, weaving through the trees as fast as I could. Hiccup pressed close to my back, holding on easily despite the speed at which we were moving.

A full minute passed before we broke through the forest and into the open, standing atop a cliffside overlooking the western edge of Berk.

Berk was alive with flame, burning so intensely it was painful to look at. Even at this distance, the inferno sent enormous drafts of heat that threatened to fill my wings and fling me backwards. Humans and dragons alike were screaming, clashing with one another both in the skies and the human nest.

The weight on my back disappeared.

“ _Hiccup?!_ ” I gasped. “ _What?!_ ”

He looked into me, his eyes old and weary. “I’m just a burden in battle, Toothless. I mean, look at what good I did last time. You could’ve helped, but instead you spent all of your time keeping me out of trouble.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “ _No, Hiccup!_ _That not—ugh!_ ” Throwing my head back, I groaned, “Well, two can play at that game!”

I plopped down right in front of him.

“Toothless, what are you—”

“ _Us always together_ ,” I growled. “ _You no fly, me no fly._ ”

“Toothless…” Hiccup drooped. “Just _go._ Our nestmates need you more than they need me.”

I twisted my neck around to look him in the eye. He was staring at his human paws, his wings tucked away.

My defiant glare softened. “ _Me understand, Hiccup. You no stupid. Talk good, remember?_ ”

He shrugged. “What is there to say?” He sighed. “Everything I do is just _pretending._ Just like Dad said…I’m just gonna get myself killed, and it’ll be _all_ my fault, and then you’ll have to…”

He didn’t finish his sentence: _And then I’ll have to carry on in a world without him._

“ _No, Hiccup_. _Me understand you scared and sad, but you no that. You no liar!_ ” I said, shaking my head. I sat up and nudged him towards me. “ _You good. You smart. You King. And me love you. No need more, Hiccup._ ”

His eyes were watery in the firelight. He gave a choked laugh, rubbing at his eyes with a paw, and clambered back onto my back. For the first time in hours, he spoke in dragon, “ _S-sorry, Toothless._ ”

“ _No sorry,_ ” I corrected. “Me _sorry. Me need you, Hiccup. No forget, okay? No forget you good?_ ”

He forced a smile and nodded.

“Okay?” I pressed.

“ _Okay_ ,” he said.

Hiccup had always been a bad liar. I frowned, eyes half-lidded and ears drooping.

“ _A-and me need you, Toothless_ ,” He added, looking down at his human paws. This was said earnestly, genuinely.

It would have to do. Our nestmates needed us, and as selfish as it was of me to ask him, I needed Hiccup to be there with me.

With a shaking sigh, Hiccup repositioned himself on my back. I faced towards Berk, taking a moment to get my bearings. Our nestmates seemed evenly-matched this time, fighting to regain lost ground. The battle was exceptionally more difficult this time, the odds no longer even placed in our favor.

And yet, my heart lifted.

Berk’s humans were joined side-by-side with our nestmates, keeping the enemy dragons at bay. In places where the defense was broken and an intruder tried to snatch up a human, a nestmate was there to save them. In turn, where nestmates were cornered or chased, a group of humans was eager to leap into action.

“ _Hiccup, look!_ ” I gasped. “ _Berk human fight with our nestmate!_ ”

He leaned forward to peer down at our nest. “R-really?!” He exclaimed, life and hope returning to his voice.

A figure thundered past just inches away from my nose, making the two of us yelp. By the time I’d looked up, the intruder had twisted around midair and drawn into a hover far above. I crouched and hissed, bringing gas to my throat. We were at a severe disadvantage standing underneath them, completely exposed to a rain of fire.

“Who are you?!” I demanded. “Why are you here?!”

Now that he was holding still, I could get a good look at the intruder. He was a very colorful dragon, about my size, with stripes and rosettes and a crest that merged into raised plates running down his spine. Just like me, he had four legs and a pair of slender wings, but only a single, oval-shaped tailtip-fin. His age was betrayed by a slight graying around his muzzle and paws.

Hiccup stiffened upon my back and hissed a warning. A moment later, I realized: this was the colorful dragon that _both_ of us had recognized before, and had been part of the group that had tried to steal Hiccup away.

“You are a Savior, correct? Where is the other one?” The intruder gasped. His voice was heavily accented, showing just how far he and his ignorant nestmates had traveled.

Although he was in no position to ask questions, I snarled, “Yes, we are Saviors! Now leave our territory!” I opened my jaw wide, showing the gas pooled in my throat.

“ _Toothless, wait—_ ” Hiccup whispered.

The intruder narrowed his eyes. “But...what is that creature upon your back? As strange as it seems, I cannot tell whether it is a dragon or not. I could have sworn I saw it fly earlier this night, but now it has no wings. And I know it did not seem able to fly some time ago.” He tilted his head. “Are you saying _that_ is the human Savior?”

I bared all my teeth in a fearsome snarl at the casual way he said this, like picking away at Hiccup’s deepest conflict was a mere curiosity.

My firelight was already reflecting in his eyes by the time he’d realized what happened. The intruder screeched and backpedaled, but he was too slow—my fire hit him directly in his torso. He rolled backwards through the air, flipped over, and sped away.

He gave a leading call, and many of his nestmates rose up above the smoke clouds with him. Not good; they were organizing another strike!

I gave chase, leaping off the cliff and opening my wings. The thermals from the fires lifted me as easily as a summer breeze, and I pumped my wings, pushing the artificial tailtip-fin to its limits.

Looking down at Berk, I grimaced at the sight of dragons and humans alike lying on the ground amidst the flames. My eyes trailed through their masses, only to lock on one figure—and on the Flame-Skin and the humans besides it, one human shaking it desperately and the rest standing aside with defeated body language.

Oh, Dragoness of the Moon—!

Gods damn it, of _all_ the times for her to disobey us!

“ _Stormfly_ ,” I whispered.

Hiccup followed my gaze and gave a choked gasp, his grip on me loosening dangerously. “No…no…”

Then, in sudden fear, “Look out!”

I twisted around to see a black Two-Walker diving from above, talons readied to knock us right out of the air.

Closer and closer she came, enough for me to see every emotion in her eyes, including…guilt?

“I’m sorry!” She cried, her voice high with desperation and fear. “We _have_ to do this!”

That accent—I knew it, I knew that voice—

There was no time to mull it over. I pinned my wings and dropped moments before she struck Hiccup. We swerved heart-stoppingly close to the flaming wood-caves, and I flung my wings open again, swooping over them unsteadily. The updrafts were coming from every direction this close to the wood-caves; if we stayed down here too long, we’d flip over.

There was an explosion nearby. It filled my wings with a sudden, powerful gale, sending me spiraling upwards!

“Hold on!” I screamed to Hiccup, who was also screaming. Fire and embers and smoke danced in dizzying circles around us, obscuring all of Berk from view. I spread my wings out and swung my tail, desperately trying to find the _right_ direction to go. Hiccup threw his weight to the left, and without thinking, I tilted my body towards it, finally evening out—

We smacked into something firm, yet soft.

Right next to my ear, an accented voice grunted, “ _Oof!_ ”

There was a second impact that rattled to my bones, but not nearly as painful as expected. I scrabbled around and lurched off of the intruder we’d landed on, shaking the dizziness away.

“I’m so, so sorry!” The intruder squealed, a cyan dragon about my age. She flipped around but kept her belly and head low, wings fluttering in a half-bow. “We desperately need your help! Please, please listen to us! Is that the other Savior?!”

I snorted derisively. “Of course! And _you_ want to _us_ to listen?” Narrowing my eyes and lifting my head, I growled, “Look around you! Look at this destruction! This is _our_ territory, and we have had to protect it from your shameless nest twice now! In _one_ night!”

The stranger whimpered. “I-I’m sorry, Savior. But we _had_ to come back, and the humans…”

“We protect them, too!” I hissed.

She gawked at me, taking slow steps away. “But…humans…they _trap_ you all here, don’t they?”

“Is—is _that_ why you’re here?!” I gasped.

“N-no, Savior! I’m so sorry! We—we need your help, and—and we thought _you_ needed help, too!” She focused on Hiccup and begged, “Please, Savior, you must come with us! Our nest desperately needs your help!”

Hiccup was listening but half-turned away, keeping an eye out for danger. He let out a sudden snarl, teeth bared and crouched low against my back. Without a second thought, I sprung away.

An intruding dragon raced just past the spot I’d been standing.

I had a moment to meet their eyes—wide, anxious, guilty—and they were gone. But just as they passed overhead, a woodclaw launched right into them from below, piercing deep into their flesh. With a strangled scream, the dragon dropped out of sight.

They did not rise.

“ _No!_ ” The intruder shrieked, taking wing after her nestmate. “No, Dragoness of the Moon, please no, please no!”

“Oh, Dragoness of the Moon,” Hiccup swore in a shaking voice. “T-Toothless, this needs to stop—they’ll all be killed at this rate!”

I couldn’t hold back a small, sad smile—leave it to Hiccup, amidst all his pain, to be concerned about the dragons _invading our territory._

The sight of Stormfly, Hookfang crouched beside her limp form, flung into my mind’s eye as a painful reminder that he probably wasn’t _only_ concerned about the intruders.

Lifting my head to the heavens, I howled, “ _Nestmates!_ Drive them north, back where they came! Form a line!”

All around the nest, there was an echoing cry, “ _UNDERSTOOD!_ ”

The objective gave our nestmates a second wind. Fire erupted across the sky like bolts of lightning. An entire line of dragons grew just over Berk, a barrier between the intruders and our home. The intruders were pushed back with pleading shrieks, begging us to allow them to continue this cowardly strike.

I was satisfied to see that none of them had succeeded in carrying a human off with them. It seemed their little plan to “save” us from being “trapped” had gone just as well as expected.

Narrowing my eyes, I braced myself and ruffled my wings. Hiccup and I exchanged a glance, and the both of us braced ourselves.

I raced towards some wood-caves cast in flames, launched myself into the air, and let the updraft launch us upwards. As we rose, I tried to tilt my body up to rise faster, but was met with expected resistance. Were it not for Hiccup’s stable weight on my shoulders, I would have flipped completely over from the unsteady air below. Yet with his support, I was able to ascend at a speed that would not have been possible without him.

I waited until we were higher than the intruders and let out a roar:

“Leave our territory at once, or we shall strike you all down! We are the Saviors, and our territory will be respected!”

Without waiting for a reply, I filled my throat with gas and opened my magic channels. My fireball blazed far into the flock of invaders, exploding brilliantly in the firelit smoke. Several dragons fell, only righting themselves just before they crashed into the snarling line below. Those that remained backpedaled with wide, terrified eyes.

Almost all of the intruders had been herded away from Berk, with our nestmates creating a wall preventing them from advancing. They all drew into hovers, letting their fires leave their mouths and some even making a show of unsheathing their claws.

I wasn’t buying it.

Not for the first time, I tried to push my body up and my tail down to go into a hover. I wobbled unsteadily in the air, and Hiccup clutched tight to my back, shifting his weight every time a stray air current rocked us to the side. I had to flap my wings as hard and fast as I could, but with Hiccup’s help, I managed to stay put…for now. Even _I_ knew that I couldn’t keep this up, not when it was so strenuous.

“We’re sorry!” An intruder gasped, flapping frantically to get out of my range. “We aren’t trying to take your territory!”

Another screeched in desperation, “Please, we need the Savior’s help, and we thought—we thought we could return the favor! We thought the humans were forcing you to be slaves, just like they do to us!”

I reared my head, but before I could say anything, a furious snarl came from one of our nestmates—Meatlug.

“Then why fight _us?!_ ” She said, with an equally-enraged Barf and Belch hovering at her side. “I witnessed your cowardice with my own eyes! I saw you strike down that poor yearling Two-Walker as she called out to you in offerings of peace! I saw your nestmates bring their fire upon her, I saw how they hunted her playmate when he tried to defend her! I saw the attempts to carry our humans off!”

“But a human had cornered her!” Pleaded the same black Two-Walker from before with the odd, familiar voice. “I’m sorry! I was trying to save her, and the Flame-Skin was fighting us!”

“ _Toothless?_ ” Hiccup whispered.

“ _Do not know_ ,” I hissed. “ _Attack Stormfly, Hookfang, and Berk human!_ ”

To the intruders, I snapped, “The humans here are included in our protection! We live beside them, and we do not need your help! This is your final warning! As both King and Savior, I command that you retreat!”

I opened my jaw wide to show the purple-white fire blazing within. The air rippled with the echoing growls of our nestmates.

Whether intimidated by my titles or my flame, the intruders knew better than to argue. With heads hanging and eyes downcast, they began to back away.

“ _NO!_ ” Came an accented outcry from high, high above. “Even if they are not slaves, we have half our mission to complete, nestmates! We _must_ complete it!”

The next seconds played out almost in slow-motion.

I whipped my head up to see a huge, imposing dragon of an unknown species far above. Our eyes locked, and he let loose magic-enhanced fire upon us. It was so bright and hot that it looked like a white whirlwind.

Even though it didn’t make direct contact, it _burned._ I couldn’t hold back a pained and horrified cry as it seared through my scales and its heat thrust me backwards, tumbling through the air at such dizzying speeds that I couldn’t right myself.

Explosions boomed above, ringing in my ears. Fire, fire was everywhere, like I’d been caught in the very sphere of soul-fire we had used on the Queen. Dragons screamed in pain, and the humans below yelled in horror.

The stabilizing weight on my back disappeared. Hiccup cried out to me.

“ _Hiccup!_ ” I screamed, throwing my paws and wings out in desperation to right myself. I spun as wildly and unpredictably as a leaf in a storm, helpless and useless. I couldn’t see him! I didn’t know where he was!

Claws wrapped around me. The world lurched to a stop so suddenly that my stomach churned and my vision distorted.

“We’re so sorry!” The intruder whom had caught me almost sobbed. “Please, forgive us for this! We didn’t know, we—we have to do this!”

“Release me!” I snarled, wrenching in their grasp. They let go before I could bite them, and I fell a short distance to the top of a wood-cave. Throwing my head up, I searched wildly in all directions and shrieked, “ _Hiccup!_ ”

The air was full of battling dragons—our nestmates trying to keep the intruders out, and the intruders desperate to get through them. If the battle had been vicious before, it was _sinister_ now. Each group was more and more desperate, and blood rained from the sky just as steadily as embers and flame.

There was too much activity, too much fire! I couldn’t see him!

Where was he?!

“ _Toothless!_ ”

I whipped around and around in a panic, wings flapping and tail whipping about—and then I caught sight of him.

Hiccup was gliding directly in the center of the clash above, opening and closing his wings to avoid dragons and fire. He was stuck up there, caught in updraft after updraft with no other choice than to ride them or let himself fall hundreds of feet below. The heat from all the fires was so intense that with each passing second his wings were open, he was lifted further up.

His eyes met mine and flooded with relief. I opened my wings and crouched. If I leapt hard enough, I could possibly make it up there—at least close enough to get him to safety.

Hiccup already knew what I planned. Without breaking eye contact, he twisted towards me, closed his wings to his sides, and let himself plummet like a woodclaw. I threw myself up towards him, flapping for all I was worth and begging the artificial tailtip-fin to let me climb just a little bit more before failing!

Hiccup reached his paws out to me, his eyes glimmering with desperation. I did the same, ready to grab him in my claws and pull him to me.

Our paws met. I wrapped my claws around his forearms. My own relief reflected in Hiccup’s eyes.

A thundering force toppled into me, wrenching him away and flinging me backwards.

“No!” I slammed into the ground so hard that my breath was knocked out of me, but it didn’t stop me from throwing myself to my feet. “ _NO!_ ”

“ _TOOTHLESS!_ ” Hiccup called in real, unbridled terror, his fledgling voice high-pitched and choked and _alone._

He was in the claws of the colorful dragon whom had questioned us before. And that colorful dragon was _fleeing_ , so fast that Hiccup’s shriek was lost in the wind.

“ _Pursue him!_ ” I screamed to our nestmates, scrambling atop the highest wood-cave in sight.

Deep inside me, I reached for a magic that I had not wielded in moons, an unnatural magic that had been gifted to us by the gods. Its power coursed through my limbs, washing the pain away in a tidal wave, and I thrust myself into the air.

Soulfire filled me from the inside out, casting my scales in a brilliant blue glow.

With a terrified hiss, I took careful aim at the intruder and let the soul-magic consume me, sending a godly fire upon he who dared to take Hiccup away.

It exploded just above him, knocking him out of the sky. The intruder toppled, Hiccup clutched in his claws and fighting for his freedom even as they plummeted. Our nestmates lunged at the window of opportunity, launching to their King as fast as they could.

The colorful dragon and Hiccup disappeared.

Confused gasps echoed in my ears and froze my heart. Nestmates flew into each other, colliding midair in the space they were _supposed_ to have been in.

A phantom voice—the _colorful dragon’s_ voice—commanded around us, “ _RETREAT! The mission is complete!_ ”

The intruders all turned and fled with a speed only possible through magic. Even in all the shock, it occurred to me that all of them must have been saving their magic for this very moment.

My body and heart turned to stone. This was planned. This was planned! This was what they wanted!

And they were _succeeding!_

I shrieked with horror and outrage, but I was already falling! I crashed, and the pain of the impact was secondary to the terror burning through me. I leaped upright, spitting soulfire after soulfire at the intruders as they turned tail and fled. With each reckless blast, the agony and twisting fear intensified.

“After them!” I screamed between great bouts of godly fire, my voice shrill and frantic. “They have Hiccup! _THEY HAVE HICCUP!_ ”

The soulfire was turning on me now, now that I was using it with such abandon. With each passing moment Hiccup was taken further away, a little more of me was obliterated. Each agonizing burst of soulfire sent a sharp, stabbing claw into my heart. My vision began to darken. The glow became overwhelming and searing, like I’d swallowed the sun and was boiling away inside.

I kept going, even as my tongue and throat burned, even as the intruders darted away so rapidly that I was no longer hitting them, but throwing aimless soulfire into the empty sky.

Our nestmates had given chase, but they were too slow, too exhausted—they had not known to save their magic, not like the intruders had. The elders broke away in gray blurs, but the foreigners had already gotten enough of a lead on them.

I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe. Again and again I abused the soul-magic, firing recklessly into the darkness, seeking only to _hurt_ and _force_ what I wanted. I knew it would tear me apart, that it was precisely what the gods had warned me against, but I didn’t care. Every inch of me was awash with pain, every scale felt as though it was melting, every blast of fire weaker than the last.

None of it was as painful as the thought of losing Hiccup.

I leapt blindly into the air and immediately fell, my body no longer able to to hold against the strain of the soul-magic. It was as if the gods themselves had swung their paws down on me, crashing me to the earth, where I lied crippled and _alone._

I tried again.

And again.

And again.

The fifth time, I couldn’t even make it off the ground.

My limbs buckled. I collapsed.

I couldn’t find the strength in my legs, couldn’t _feel_ my legs even though I could dimly see their glow in my blackening vision. With the last of my power, I raised my neck and wheezed, sending a final streak of soulfire in the direction of the intruders. I could no longer see them or the sky or, worst of all, _Hiccup_.

The soulfire fizzled out barely a foot in front of me.

I more felt the glow leaving me than saw it, I was so blind. My heart ached like it’d been poisoned and was rotting from disease in a slow and tormenting death. My entire body rattled like I’d depleted every last ounce of my magic and was in the sharp descent to forever-sleep. My head pounded like the weight of a mountain was hammering down upon it.

Despite the heaviness holding me down with the force of the gods, I lifted my head and set blind eyes above.

“ _HICCUP!_ ” I wailed. “ _Please, Hiccup!_ ”

Everything was drifting away. I raked my claws into the dirt but found no purchase. Where _could_ I find it, with my brother gone? How could I _possibly_ grasp it when his light was choked away, when his love was smothered, when his warmth was chilled, when I was left empty and foolish and _alone?_

The strength to even hold my head up left me, and my chin smacked into the ground. I blinked blind eyes and _wept_ with helpless rage and terror and sorrow. My vision abandoned me, as did my hearing, as did the rest of my senses. The heat of soulfire dimmed and cooled into a lethal frigidity. I didn’t care.

Hiccup was gone.

Hiccup was gone.

 


	11. Maneō

_It was a long fall._

Their eyes blazed with defiance and contempt.

Failure, failure, it had all been for nothing—all careful preparations, all precautions, all of it, incinerated within flames, its ashes blown away in thin wisps in a gentle wind.

It _burned._ As ironic as it was, as _cruel_ as it was, it _burned_ as it happened, as everything fell apart, as the world shifted underfoot to hold up the weight of a terrible fate.

It seemed that They had a sense of gleeful irony, amongst other things.

_It was a long fall._

Emptiness was always there, ravenously swallowing any hint of joy, of safety, of love.

The skies were locked away now, forcing down with Their strength. Condemnation was to wallow beneath the cold, dark, heavy waters of the oceans.

The stars seemed brighter, the sun more searing—it was a taunt, a reminder every moment of loss and _failure_ and losing something essential, something _vital_ , something that had been torn away and replaced.

Torn away on purpose _._ They took it on purpose. On purpose. _On purpose._

Rage and helplessness were all that were.

_It was a long fall._

Obliterated as it all was, there was still something there, a faint shell of what had been.

Memories twisted and churned, warping amongst themselves. The waters were merciless, the monsters living in its depths just as cruel as expected. The dragons of the sky were no better, eager to _burn_ in scornful flames just as They had once before.

If only they _listened._

It was easier to force it, to mask it all under a blanket of safety. The fear stalking within was quelled, at least.

And in that masking, a discovery was made.

_It sang._


	12. Chapter 11

 

Astrid

A grizzly burn trailed a burning path from my spine down to my hips. My hair was burned and tangled, filling my nose with the acid reek of singed hair. My arms and legs were covered in scrapes. My whole body ached from a brief moment when a dragon had picked me up, lifted me a good couple feet into the air, and then dropped me when Hookfang leapt up to protect me. My ears were ringing, deafened by the explosions, and my eyes were burning from all the ash and smoke. Sweat pooled on my forehead from the intense heat, leaving me dizzy and dehydrated.

I pushed all of it aside.

“C’mon, girl,” I croaked, shaking my dragon’s limp head. “Stormfly! C’mon! We gotta…”

A wild coughing fit rattled my entire body. A hand grabbed my shoulder.

“Astrid,” Fishlegs whimpered, his eyes watery. Ash coated his skin so thoroughly that he looked like he was made of it. “It’s not safe here. We gotta get to cover.”

“No,” I said, slapping his hand away. “She’s still breathing. I’m not leaving her—this is all my fault!”

Both statements were true. Stormfly’s chest was barely rising up and down. It was hard to see, considering the massive burn wound coating her from neck to tail.

A dragon had shot a fireball at me at close range. Stormfly had leapt in front of it.

I wasn’t going to abandon her here, leaving her to suffocate in all the smoke.

“Well, what’re we gonna do?!” Snotlout shouted above the roar of the battle, keeping an eye out for more swooping dragons. “Where do we even go?! There’s fire _everywhere!_ ”

“Yeah, Astrid, this is really pushing it!” Ruffnut wheezed. “We can’t help Stormfly if we all choke to death!”

I shook Stormfly again. Her head lolled back and forth.

Hookfang leaned down with a keening whine, nosing his friend. He was hurt, too; when Stormfly had collapsed, he had exploded in uncharacteristic fury—only to be chased off by the raiding dragons. He had returned scratched and burned, but still able to walk and fly.

The small Nightmare craned his neck upwards and let out a high-pitched wail.

There was so much smoke that all that could be seen was the occasional lightning-burst of dragons spewing flames.

I covered my mouth and nose with my arm as another coughing fit wracked my body, filling my vision with brilliant spots. The smoke from the fire was becoming too much, even for me. I had to think of something, and fast.

Hookfang nosed Stormfly with a keening whine. Then his eyes snapped wide open, and he whipped around to look over his shoulder.

“Duck!” I shouted, and everyone threw themselves to the ground to avoid the swooping dragon.

But there wasn’t one.

A shrill squeak came in place of a snarl or the blaze of fire. I sat up and squinted into the smoke.

A small figure burst out of it, wing flapping wildly and little legs sprinting so fast they were a blur.

Noodles stopped just short of Hookfang with a loud squeak. He flapped his one wing a few times, spun in a tight circle, and then darted back the way he came. He stopped a few feet away, turned to us, and squeaked.

I looked at Fishlegs, who shrugged.

“Better than nothing,” I groaned.

“C’mon, Hookfang!” Snotlout coughed, stumbling forward. Hookfang jerked towards him, eyes wide, and threw his head against Snotlout’s chest. Snotlout paused, giving him a calming pet on the brow. “Hey, I know, man. It’s rough.” He pointed at Stormfly and said, “Pick ‘er up, Hookie! C’mon, show everyone how buff you are!”

Hookfang looked between his friend and human with huge, unfocused eyes, his tail and head low.

“Hookfang, _c’mon!_ ” Snotlout said. “Or I swear you’re sleeping outside tonight!”

Hookfang couldn’t understand any of us. It had been made _blatantly_ clear the _first_ time we had tried to get him to carry Stormfly to safety.

I pushed my arms underneath Stormfly’s head and, with a pained heave, pulled and _pulled_ until I just barely managed to lift her up a few inches. Agony burned through my limbs from the strain, every wound lighting up like I’d just received it again. I gasped from the pain and shouted, “ _Hookfang!_ Help!”

His eyes were blank. He stood there, shaking. After a good second of staring, he reared his head back.

With a yelp, Hookfang scrambled forward and nipped at Stormfly’s scruff. He dragged her up onto his back, where she lay with limp, dangling limbs.

“Nadder is secured! Let’s go!” Tuffnut shouted. He raced after Noodles, who was bouncing up and down impatiently and squawking.

Noodles waited for us to take a few steps closer, swiveled on his front paws, and bolted. He sunk into the black, swallowed by the smoke.

We followed the Terror through the smoke and fire as fast as we could. The sharp light reflected from his emerald scales like a neon beacon, bringing a hint of coolness to the inferno raging in every direction. Even though he was so short and scrawny, all of us still had trouble keeping up with him. More than once, the only sight of him was a flash of green among the red-hot embers and charcoal smoke.

The dragons screamed overhead. I saw a flash of purple and heard a boom, but getting Stormfly to safety was more important.

Then—

The temperature plunged, bringing a welcome chill across my skin. Undergrowth sprung up around us.

Noodles led us deeper into the forest, his tongue lolling from his mouth as he panted. Just ahead, a young voice cried out his name.

Realization hit me. I threw myself through the rest of the foliage and came to a halt as I burst into a small clearing.

Hookfang was right at my heels, shoving his way in. With a wheeze, he shouldered Stormfly off of his back and collapsed besides her.

I rushed to Stormfly as the others packed in. Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, I heaved, “Are you two alright?”

Noodles had lead us to Gunvor and Hemming—Dogsbreath’s children.

Gunvor was busy cuddling the one-winged Terror, but Hemming looked up at us with huge, tearful eyes.

“Y-yeah, but...but...d-did you see my Dad?” He sniffled, hugging his younger sister and Noodles like he was trying to shield them. Noodles nosed him, licking some dirt off of his cheek.

Fishlegs walked over to them and crouched down to get closer. “No,” he said gently, “but I’m sure he’s fine. Did Noodles take you here?”

The young boy nodded. “Y-yeah. He did last time, too.”

“Good job, Noodles,” Fishlegs murmured, giving the Terror a pat on the head. Noodles tilted his head and chirped.

A tense silence overcame us. Distant screams from dragons could still be heard, the glow of the fires still lighting the sky in an illusion of sunrise.

I hovered my hands over Stormfly. I had never felt so helpless and _stupid_ in my entire life. At least in the past, my problems had been because of my own mistakes. In a way, I felt like this _was_ my fault—but I knew that, more than anything, it was _nobody’s_ fault but the raiding dragons.

And that just made it so much worse. I wanted to be furious at them, and yet even that was overtaken by the sheer shock and confusion of it all. Why had this happened? Why had this happened to _Stormfly?_ What had she _ever_ done to deserve this, when the worst things she ever did was be too naive and playful and trusting and disobedient?

I couldn’t even do anything to help her, not with the entire village up in flames and all the dragons locked in battle overhead. All I could do was sit here and pray.

Stormfly needed _help_ , not hope.

After a few seconds, Ruffnut sat down next to me. She played with her hair, grimacing. “Well…if it makes you feel better, we don’t know where Barf and Belch are.”

“Yeah, he totally abandoned us!” Tuffnut piped up. “At least your dragon _stayed_ with you.”

I turned to them.

“And look where that got her,” I spat.

Both of them had the sense to look guilty. Fishlegs gave me a crestfallen look, and Snotlout cringed and rubbed his neck.

There was a loud, distinct shriek from Berk. The sky lit up like lightning between the leaves of the canopy, illuminating the forest floor like the sun. Then it lit up again, and again, and again.

Brilliant sunbursts exploded across the sky, so bright that it painted the world in black and white with each burst.

Hookfang whimpered. Noodles bolted on top of Hemming and tried to cover Gunvor with his wing, little fangs bared and eyes focused above. Stormfly’s breath rattled as she struggled to breathe.

As quick as it had come, the powerful lighting died away. The sound of warring dragons and Vikings faded into a haunting, lonesome wail.

The following silence was heavy and thick, swallowing even the slightest whistle of wind between grass. It had a surreal, malevolent feel to it, like the quiet that falls over prey animals that know they’re being watched.

The battle was over.

My heart ached with the thought that I was about to witness our first loss.

“Stormfly,” I whispered, putting a hand on her neck to feel her weak pulse. I might as well have been screaming in the reverberating silence.

I was nudged by something warm and smooth.

Noodles blinked up at me and flapped his wing. He growled, swinging his tail and head around and running in a circle. I didn’t react until he reared up and slapped my hand off Stormfly with a paw.

“Hey!” I shouted.

The Terror flinched away, cringing against the ground. He gazed up at me with wide eyes, tailtip flicking, and then seemed to collect his courage. He puffed up as big as he could, stomped in between Stormfly and me, and let out the loudest squeak he could.

Hookfang swung his tail around between us, as if the tiny Terror could do actual damage.

Then, with a pull of his tail, he yanked me backwards.

“Woah!” I yelped, tumbling head over foot.

“Hookfang!” Snotlout scolded. “Not cool, man! Not cool!”

Tuffnut decided that _now_ of all times was appropriate to ask, “Do Terrible Terrors give massages?”

“Really, Tuffnut?” Ruffnut groaned.

I clambered to my feet, trying to hide how difficult the movement was. Staring Noodles in the eyes, I commanded, “Noodles, down!”

Noodles had perched on Stormfly’s neck. His eyes widened and he squeaked.

Hookfang leapt between us.

“Snotlout! Control your dragon!” I hissed. “The _least_ I can do is be at Stormfly’s side!”

I approached the meek Nightmare. He seemed to have a hard time meeting my eye, but stayed where he was, head low and claws digging into the soil.

“Wait!”

Fishlegs scrambled in front of me right as I reached Hookfang, holding his hands up. I lifted my chin and glared up at him, but still waited for him to speak.

“Meatlug told me about this—well, I mean, she _tried_ to…I think…” Fishlegs grimaced. “It’s actually surprisingly difficult to get some concepts across even with only half of a language barrier, but—”

“Get to the point!” I interrupted.

“Well, Noodles hasn’t been battling, right?” Fishlegs said. “He’s just been with Gunvor and Hemming here. So that means—”

Fishlegs didn’t get to finish.

His explanation was drowned out by a deafening, suffering scream that was so loud that I felt it deep in my chest.

Stormfly was suddenly filled with dying life, writhing on the ground under Hookfang’s claws. Between the panicked flailing of her wings and tail, I could spot Noodles still latched onto her.

What was he doing?!

“He’s hurting her!” I gasped, forcing myself ahead. Fishlegs tried to grab me away, but I ducked underneath him and jumped right into the fray.

Hookfang was doing a _terrible_ job at snatching Noodles off of Stormfly; he seemed more focused on trying to get them to hold still instead of just leaning down and snatching him. I slipped around him and tried to leap for the damned Terror.

At the very same moment, Stormfly’s powerful wing smacked into me and sent me flinging backwards. I hit the ground hard and couldn’t hold back a pained scream.

“Astrid!” Ruffnut and Fishlegs cried, running towards me.

“Help _Stormfly!_ ” I all but screeched at them.

“Everybody calm down!” Fishlegs shouted, trying to block Ruffnut as she spun on her heel and charged towards the dragons.

My heart was hammering so hard, it was painful. My head was pounding. She was dying, she was being tortured to death, and I was completely _useless_ and nobody was doing _anything!_

Rage filled my limbs with new strength. With a heave, I forced myself to my feet and swayed with dizziness.

Tuffnut tried to have a go at them, too, but this time it was Hookfang’s swinging paw that knocked him away. Snotlout leapt on top of his dragon’s muzzle, only to shout when he was shaken off and thrown into the forest.

Hookfang twisted around. His tail swung like a whip.

The impact against my chest was so forceful that my breath left me. I was thrown backwards, _again._ I rolled over, spots in my vision and ears ringing, and struggled to stand. _Again._

I couldn’t.

I wheezed, shaking my head. I had never known true battle, the horrors of watching friends and family fall before your eyes.

This must be what it feels like—to be wounded and helpless, to see them die a slow and painful death while you remained in the living world. My chest burned and my eyes stung—but neither was because of the smoke.

I was watching her die, and before I could even thank her.

By some cruel turn of fate, it was the _exact_ moment that realization came upon me that Stormfly’s screeches suddenly died down into nothing.

Hookfang backed up. A beat passed.

“No,” I breathed. Adrenaline burst through me anew. Using a nearby tree for purchase, I pulled myself upright and took a dizzy, swaying step forward, staring at the motionless form of my dragon. “ _No._ ”

In the sudden stillness, I had a clear shot of Noodles. He was heaving on the ground next to Stormfly, his eyes half-lidded.

I ripped my axe from my belt and lurched forward until I was standing just above him.

“No!” Gunvor and Hemming both shrieked.

The Terror met my eyes and curled up, covering his head with his single wing.

_Clang._

“Damn you,” I whispered, falling to my knees besides my axe. “Why?”

I put my hand on Stormfly’s chest, bracing myself for it to be still and cold. She was dead—she _had_ to be, after all that suffering she had just endured. She was dead, and it was all because she was trying to protect me, and I would never get to thank her and tell her how glad I was that I got to live with her, even for a short time—

The shock of feeling warmth and movement almost made me burst into relieved tears.

“W-what?!” I snapped my head up, breathless with hope.

Stormfly cracked an eye open, focused on me, and hummed a soft, whimpering purr.

“ _Stormfly!_ ” I cried, throwing myself at her and wrapping my arms around her head. “You—you stupid dragon! Don’t you _ever_ scare me like that again!”

Stormfly wheezed. She dropped her head and closed her eyes, and her breathing deepened.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Fishlegs said, stepping over and sitting down next to Stormfly with me. “Dragons can do some weird…healing thing…with their magic. Not just, uh, shapeshifting people.”

“It’s painful?” I murmured. “It _hurts_ them?”

“Apparently,” Fishlegs sighed. “Meatlug could never get the details across. I was hoping I could ask Hiccup about it, but I always felt too awkward.”

 _Hiccup._ Without even realizing it, my mind made connections I hadn’t even known were missing.

If just _healing_ was that agonizing…how bad was shapeshifting? How _dangerous_ was it? Hiccup had stopped breathing for a long time after he was changed back, but I had always thought it had been the toll of the battle against the Queen dragon. Now I wondered...was it _really_ because of the transformation?

Suddenly I had a lot more insight on _why_ Hiccup was still not a dragon.

“Wait, hold on!” Snotlout shouted. “Can somebody please explain to me what the hell just happened? Hookie, what is your _deal?_ ”

Hookfang was nestled down besides Stormfly, partially covering her with a wing. He tipped his head, eyes wide and innocent.

“Well, apparently Terrors _do_ give massages!” Tuffnut exclaimed. He ran over to Noodles, who had retreated back to a stunned Gunvor and Hemming. “My turn, my turn!”

Ruffnut sat down on my other side and poked Stormfly. “Well, if ya ask me, Noodles did a pretty shoddy job. Her scars look exactly the same.”

“It was probably internal,” Fishlegs said. “Her breathing is much more even now.”

I frowned. “So she isn’t out of the woods just yet.”

“Hah! Nice joke, Astrid,” Ruffnut laughed, punching me on the shoulder.

I flinched, resting a hand on Stormfly’s neck. Her pulse was still fluttering, but not faint and almost gone like it had been earlier. Giving a soft sigh, I looked over at Noodles. The tiny thing was sitting straight up in front of his two charges, eyes locked on me and my axe.

With a pained grunt, I twisted around and faced him, keeping my axe behind me.

“Thank you, Noodles,” I said. I leaned down low, almost hunching over in front of him. It was some formal dragon thing, something I had seen Hiccup do several times to his dragon friends. It was the only way for me to be sure that he would know how grateful I was.

Noodles’ eyes doubled in size, his one wing flapping frantically a few times. He yipped and then returned the gesture.

When he rose, Noodles tugged at Hemming’s pants. He yowled and darted off, back towards the village, and stopped just before he was out of sight.

“Oh, thank gods! Come on, Gunvor,” Hemming told his little sister, taking her hand in his. “Noodles is taking us home.”

“But what about the pretty dragon?” Gunvor whined.

“She’ll be okay…for now,” I said. “Go on. All of you.” I turned to my friends. “Go make sure everyone’s okay, and I’ll stay here with Stormfly.”

“We’ll get a cart to get her back in the village,” Fishlegs promised.

“ _Ooor_ …Hookfang could just _carry_ her?” Snotlout drawled.

We all looked at Hookfang. He was curled up around Stormfly, dead asleep.

Snotlout grimaced. “Well, I guess we can just ask Hiccup to do something. I bet he can get the dragons to do that healing thing again.”

“Then let’s get to it!” Ruffnut said. Without another word, she darted off.

“ _Hey!_ ” Tuffnut exclaimed, chasing after his sister. “Wait for us!”

Everyone else followed suit. Without a bunch of people standing around, the forest around us opened up almost invitingly. The darkness and silence and frigid temperatures normally would have been uncomfortable—intimidating, even—but now I welcomed it with open arms.

I slumped next to my wounded dragon, resting my head in my hand and closing my eyes. Even after everything had settled, my heart was still beating painfully fast, and my chest was tight with anxiety.

Something was still wrong, I could just feel it.

Some amount of time passed. The gentle quiet seemed to press in on me, sending all of my thoughts wandering and dulling my senses.

However long we sat like that, I was broken out of it soon enough. There was the sound of wings flapping, a loud _thump_ , and then heavy vibrations zipping through the earth.

I snapped my head up just in time.

“Barf! Belch!” I gasped, scrambling to my feet.

Barf lowered his head and sniffed me, purring softly with half-lidded eyes. Belch stretched out to Stormfly and Hookfang, nosing both of them. Hookfang jolted to his feet with a loud shriek, but Stormfly didn’t stir.

“Where _were_ you?” I demanded, trying not to sound too miffed. Plenty of burns and scrapes marring his hide told me enough, but a selfish part of me wished he had stayed with us.

Barf hummed, resting his head atop mine. With a surprising tenderness, he nudged me by my rump back in the direction of Berk and squawked.

I pressed my lips together. “I’m not leaving without Stormfly.”

There was no recognition in his eyes, not like the kind I saw when I spoke to Meatlug or Toothless. He continued to purr soothingly, pushing me along. Then, without waiting for me to go, he lifted both of his heads and approached Stormfly.

Hookfang crouched low, wriggled his rump, and leapt up through the canopy into the skies. Barf and Belch extended his long wings, their tips brushing up through the branches.

I realized just a moment too late what he was doing—and that I was being left behind.

“Wait!” I shouted, stumbling forward.

The clearing filled with enormous wind gusts. Barf and Belch launched into the air, carrying Stormfly with them. Just before disappearing completely from sight, he looked down at me, roared one last time, and threw his head in the direction of Berk. He flared his wings and ducked out of sight, Hookfang following close behind.

The wind died down. I was left alone.

**o.O.o**

The sun was finally, _finally_ rising by the time I stepped back into Berk.

To be honest, I was pretty mad at Barf and Belch for not taking me with him. The reasonable part of me knew it made sense, that I’d be useless and that I was needed in Berk. But he had _taken_ Stormfly, and now I didn’t even know if she was alright.

I had to get over it—not that I had a choice. I had to trust that Stormfly was going to be fine, so that I could actually be useful and focused on the jobs that needed to be done.

Even after the battle, everything was chaos. Smoke still loomed overhead, casting an enormous shadow over the entirety of Berk. Fires were crackling, eating away at the houses and shops. Entire buildings were burned to their foundations, and great black scars marred the ground where dragons had sent their fire below.

The occasional spattering of blood was a firm reminder that this battle had taken casualties—the majority of them dragons. Several were limping along or outright lying in the streets. I noticed right away that even more of the dragons on the ground seemed too shaken to move, sitting statue-still and staring off into some unseen distance.

 _That_ was definitely weird—but it wasn’t even the least of it. The biggest shock was to see people _helping_ them, rousing them and even offering food. Those who weren’t with the dragons were running this way and that, frantic to find people they’d lost track of in the battle and to stop the fires that still burned away. The remaining dragons were actually helping out, smothering fires and lifting heavy pieces of wood and stone to free people trapped underneath. Some were positioned overhead, wheeling in the sky in preparation for a third strike.

I searched up there to see if I could spot Barf and Belch’s huge wingspan among them. I hated letting Stormfly out of my sight like this, not knowing where she was. If nothing else, Hiccup would explain everything to me...I hoped.

Running through Berk, I was unsurprised to find that many villagers shared the same sentiment. More than once someone approached me, asked for an explanation, and then asked me to get Hiccup when I couldn’t give one.

“Getting Hiccup” was the goal—if I could just _find_ him. I knew my parents were too sturdy to have been hurt in the battle, and so I went in search of the Chief’s son. I needed to know that Stormfly was really going to be okay. Not to mention that knowing why we were attacked _twice_ in one night would be nice.

After several minutes of stumbling around Berk, I didn’t find Hiccup—but I did wander into his father.

We noticed each other at the same time. He ran over to me, and I couldn’t help but notice huge burn wounds all along his exposed skin. His beard was still smouldering, and half of his helmet was singed.

“Have you seen Hiccup?!” The Chief demanded. His expression hardened when I shook my head. “Alright. Help me find him, then. Where’s your dragon? We could use her right now.”

“She’s hurt,” I said. “Barf and Belch carried her off. When did you last see Hiccup?”

Shame and regret swam in his eyes before he collected himself. “Before the battle. I heard Toothless and saw him, but I can’t find either of them anywhere.”

The Chief’s voice was rigid with shameless fear. I tried not to let my surprise show on my face.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” I tried to reassure him. “I mean, he’s with _Toothless._ ”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” the Chief growled. “Toothless was up _there_.” He pointed into the sky, and his voice filled with frustration. “He was there right before the final charge, and he was right in the middle of it when the sky filled with fire.”

That…was not good. I would question _how_ exactly Toothless had been flying later. “I-I’ll bet they just ended up somewhere we haven’t checked yet,” I said.

The Chief shook his head. “I’ve been to the docks and over the western and southern sections of Berk. You search the north, and I’ll do the east.”

“Right, Chief.” I straightened up even as my body screamed for rest.

He nodded once and took off. I wheeled around and sprinted north.

Town Hall was directly in front of me, half of the village already cramming into it. I ran through the streets as fast as I could, eyes flinging wildly up and down. Normally, the dragons would sit on top of the buildings...but there just _weren’t_ buildings anymore. At least half were damaged in some shape or form. The dragons were stuck wandering around in the streets or sitting completely still.

Something about their eyes struck me. How lost they seemed.

I rounded a corner and stumbled to a halt. Then, finding my voice, I shouted, “ _Hey!_ ”

Meatlug turned around with a surprised grunt. I ran over to her and she met me halfway...with Barf and Belch right behind her. Nobody else was in the street—they seemed to have been resting for a moment in solitude.

The Gronckle sniffed me and growled, shaking her head. Barf and Belch rumbled and nosed me with both heads.

“Where did you take Stormfly?” I almost begged Barf and Belch. “Is she okay?!”

Barf and Belch didn’t seem to understand much, glancing over at Meatlug.

She pressed her side against mine and even patted at me with her wing in a “there, there” manner. She nodded.

“Oh, thank Thor,” I heaved, letting out a breath I’d been holding since the battle. Straightening up, I said, “Thank you. Do you know where Hiccup and Toothless are, too?”

Meatlug’s expression dropped, the light in her eyes darkening. She drooped, wings hanging limp and ears pinned against her skull. With a moan, she twisted around and tromped back towards where she had been standing.

The sudden shift in mood sent fear plunging into my heart. I stood still, apprehensive and assuming the worst, until Barf nudged me forward.

“Wait,” I said. “Can one of you bring the Chief, too?”

Barf and Belch looked at Meatlug. She seemed to harden, pulling herself together with a dignified snort.

With a simple nod, she opened her wings and took off. Barf and Belch watched her go and then gently pushed me ahead, giving me a good lick on the head.

He lead me further and further north, closer to the cliffs that jutted out over the ocean. As we walked, he kept one wing half-extended over me, like he was ready to leap to protect me at any given moment. He took great care to move any “dangerous” obstacles out of the way, even slowing us down by blocking me until some piece of flaming rubble had been properly tossed off to the side.

With each street we trekked through, a tight anxiety pulled at my chest. Meatlug wasn’t cheery like Stormfly, and she seemed a bit overdramatic at times. But her reaction to my question could never mean anything good.

When we actually _left_ Berk, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that panicking would do no good. I braced myself.

We came along a grassy outcrop with a full view of the ocean. The sun was off to our right in the east, rising higher and higher into the sky and casting long shadows. To the west, the waters were still black as the night.

There was a huge plume of fog far off in the distance, rising high into the air like a storm cloud.

Just below it was a black figure lying on the cliff’s edge.

“Toothless! Hiccup!” I shouted in relief, sprinting towards them. “Oh, thank Odin—I was starting to think you’d fallen in the ocean or something. Are you guys alright?”

Toothless didn’t move a muscle. His eyes were half-lidded, staring unblinkingly north. His wings were drawn in and splayed on the ground. I couldn’t see Hiccup, which meant he was lying underneath Toothless’ wings. Still, Toothless’ tail was curled around his body, blocking him from view.

He had a paw resting atop something made of leather and metal. I paused and squinted at it.

It...was a tailfin. A handmade one.

“Wow,” I breathed. “So that’s how you guys got up there. I was wondering how…”

I trailed off, staring in confusion at Toothless. He was being kind-of rude, not even bothering to lift his wing so I could see Hiccup. Hell, he wasn’t even acknowledging me. For that matter, _Hiccup_ was being rude, too.

“Hiccup?” I called. I took a step forward and crouched down next to the unresponsive Toothless. “You...you okay?”

The Night Fury didn’t move and Hiccup didn’t respond. My relief was slapped away by that same anxiety and premonition that I had felt back in the forest.

“Toothless…” I said in a slow, careful voice. “This isn’t funny. I need to talk to Hiccup.”

His eye flicked towards me.

Toothless snapped upright and _howled_ , ripping his wings open and filling my vision with them.

Hiccup was not at his side.

I gaped at the emptiness there, so unusual that I was half-convinced that it wasn’t real. By the time I dragged my eyes over to him, Toothless had calmed down, hunched with drooping wings and a hanging head.

“But…” I stopped to collect my thoughts. “But… _how?_ Where is he?”

Toothless whined, high-pitched and shaking, and shook his head. He seemed to shrink half his size, folding in on himself and rattling like he had been grabbed and shaken around.

A dragon called out behind us. I turned around, and my heart dropped. Meatlug had brought the Chief here.

“Oh, thank Thor,” he breathed. “Hiccup, I’m so, _so_ sorry, I—Hiccup?”

Just like I had, he checked underneath Toothless’ wings and stiffened upon finding the emptiness there. He studied Toothless, the helpless and frightened way he was staring off into the north, his shoulders heaving under some unbearable weight.

“Toothless, where is Hiccup?” The Chief demanded.

Toothless shook his head, moaning in that hollow, helpless way that was so unlike him.

“ _Where is Hiccup?!_ ”

Toothless twisted to him, nose wrinkled and eyes slits. He raised his lip with a quivering hiss and suddenly stopped, clenching his eyes shut. He lifted his paw, shaking with the damning effort of it, and pointed north.

The Chief swayed where he stood. “No…you don’t mean…no…”

I held a hand to my mouth, struggling to stay composed and calm as everything clicked into place.

The raiding dragons had taken Hiccup.

“I never…” the Chief choked. “I never even got to _apologize_ to him. He must hate me, and I never—” He stopped short, hanging his head. “Gods damn it. Gods _damn_ it!”

He spun towards Toothless, fists clenched and shaking. “Where were you?!” He cried. “I _told_ you to stay! You _know_ that he would have been safe there! You _know_ how dangerous it is for him! You _know_ those wings can only do so much!”

Toothless sat there and took it all with a hanging head, curling his tail in closer and pawing at Hiccup’s tailfin. He was still looking out to sea, at that behemoth cloud of fog miles and miles away. With each furious accusation, he lowered his head more, his jaw tightened, and his wings crumpled closer in.

“How can you be so irresponsible?!” The Chief roared. “How can you let them _take him?!_ ”

Toothless winced as if the words had struck him, squeezing his eyes shut with a soft whine.

I couldn’t take it, seeing the defeated dragon King beaten further into the mud.

“ _Stop it!_ ” I interrupted, jumping in between the Chief and Toothless. “I know it’s hard, but there’s no point in throwing fingers! We have to do _something!_ ” To Toothless, I asked, “The dragons, they’re out looking for him, right?”

There was a short pause. Toothless nodded once, still refusing to meet our eyes, his focus still locked on the horizon.

“Then they’ll find where they went, right?” I pressed.

No response. His expression was so torn and lost and confused that I almost put a hand on his neck to comfort him.

The Chief stewed there, clearly still furious but calmer now. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between two fingers and sighed. “Astrid’s right,” he ground out. “I shouldn’t be taking this out on you, Toothless. I’m sorry.”

For a second, it was almost as if Toothless didn’t hear him. He blinked once and peered up at the Chief.

“There’s no more time to waste feeling sorry. We’ll prepare ships at once,” The Chief said, completely in control now. “If the dragons return without him, they can at least lead us to him.”

“W-what about Berk?” I asked. “What if the dragons come back? Or the Bog Burglars?”

The Chief stared into me with such fury that I shrunk away. His voice dripped with poison, “Then we will fight them. I am _not_ losing my son again.”

Toothless finally lifted his head, setting the Chief with a sullen look.

With a heave, he struggled to his feet—only to fall limp right there, slamming into the ground with a pained yelp. Meatlug and Barf and Belch scrambled towards him. Toothless growled at them, and they skidded to a stop and whined. It took a second growl for them to slink away.

“Toothless…” I murmured. In sudden anger, I said, “What the _hell?!_ ”

He glared at me, and I returned it.

“What’s gotten into you?! Aren’t you the one who always jumps into action right away?” I said. “If you need help, then _let_ us help you! You’re not doing Hiccup any favors sitting here too hurt to move!”

He bared his teeth and hissed.

“She has a point,” the Chief said. He hesitated, and then rested a gentle hand on Toothless’ forehead. “I’m sorry, Toothless. But we need to move. We need _you_ to get Hiccup back.”

Toothless froze. He sat there, shaking, and blinked wide-eyed at the Chief.

He shook the Chief’s hand off and tried to get back up again. Meatlug and Barf and Belch crept closer. This time, he let them support him.

The small act left him fighting for breath, his nose almost pressed to the dirt. He took a step forward and gave a sharp yelp, ducking his head and gritting his teeth. It was clearly agonizing for him, but he took another slow step, followed by another, and another...

I kept a close eye on Toothless, taking in the glazed look in his eyes, the delayed way he moved his legs, how he let his wings and tail drag limp after him. Each movement seemed to cause him a deep pain.

I would have expected him of all dragons to leap off the cliff and fly off, or at least try to. It was so weird for him to have just been _sitting_ there, staring out at sea, refusing help.

I had a feeling that whatever was hurting him, it wasn’t the _real_ problem.

There was no point in asking him or mulling it over. We were doing what we could, and that would have to be enough. We trekked further into the burning devastation of Berk as the fires _finally_ began to calm down.

Behind us, the fog plume rose higher and higher still, casting a dark shadow upon the ocean below it.

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

I screamed for Toothless until my voice left me, leaving my throat raw and burning.

The colorful dragon held onto me so tightly that it was hard to breathe. He had been there the night the black Two-Walker had snatched me—and he had learned from her mistakes. He positioned me so that my arms and wings were clutched against my chest and my torso and legs dangled, making it impossible for me to bite or even struggle.

I hung limp in his claws, nauseous and shaking and gasping as the sharp, freezing wind stung at my eyes. We were moving so fast that the intruders must have been using magic. Not even the elders on Berk would be able to catch up at this rate.

“ _Toothless_ ,” I croaked into the empty air. “ _Please…_ ”

I refused to let tears come to my eyes. I refused to let myself give in again. This wouldn’t be like last time.

I wasn’t going to do that to Toothless. Or…or even to Dad.

The memory of our last conversation was like a sore, flaring up with burning pain every time it was disturbed. I swallowed heavily as it burned through my mind’s eye, each word as crisp and detailed as if it had just happened.

_Because you’re not a dragon anymore, son!_

Once again, I focused on the empty shell of my magic.

 _Don’t give up_ , I told myself. It was stupid, pointless advice. As cowardly and selfish as it was, there was still a part of me that wanted to, a phantom shadow that stalked at the corners of my mind and cackled at my every mistake.

I couldn’t. I _wouldn’t._ Not again. Not again.

I had to move forward, just as the Dragon of the Sun and Dragoness of the Moon had told me.

But…wasn’t I? Dad thought I was moving backwards—that much had been made _crystal_ clear. Was he wrong? Or was _I_ wrong? How could I even know?

On the surface level, it sounded like it was the simple matter of _what_ I was—but we all knew that wasn’t _really_ it. This was deeper, this was a matter much more personal than just the presence of wings and scales or fur and skin. I felt so incomplete all the time—except when I was flying or speaking with Toothless. What did that mean? What did that make _me_ , in this human body?

It was all too confusing, roiling around in my head and making the world spin. The bumpy ride wasn’t helping much either, making me all the more nauseated.

I closed my eyes and tried to block the sound of the wind and dragons. _Focus, Hiccup._

The first thing I had to do was escape, not dangle here having an existential crisis. Then, after that, I would deal with…with…

I sighed.

With everything, I guess.

But if I ever wanted to do that, I would have to escape first. I needed a plan.

This time, I would make absolutely sure that I wouldn’t cause my own death if it failed. For Toothless. For our nestmates.

…and for Dad.

**o.O.o**

There was a huge plume of fog ahead.

The intruders were oddly wary of it, speaking to each other in worried, hushed tones. The colorful dragon was leading them, giving me a full view of it.

We were miles and miles and _miles_ away from it, yet it still reached up into the heavens like a giant mountain, dancing and twirling away. I caught the scent of thunderstorms in the air, and the temperature was dropping in sudden, sharp spurts. Even at its distance, I could feel thunder rumbling and vibrating my bones. A cold front?

Whatever it was, the colorful dragon didn’t want anything to do with it. He spoke, and what I caught in his short announcement was that he was telling them not to worry. He asked for agreement, and when the intruders cried out in understanding, he gave a leading call. Tucking his wings in, he swooped sharp to the east and perpendicular to the fog.

I almost asked him what it was and stopped myself. I had to be quiet.

We had skirted past several islands now. In my mind’s eye, I knew exactly where we were. For all the pain and suffering my time under the Queen had given me, it at least gave me a good idea of the topography of the archipelago. We were north of the Queen’s nest, far too close for comfort. Many islands we had passed were uninhabited—but many more housed Viking tribes.

Even this far out, I could see ships sailing. Some north, some south. A thought crossed my mind to try and break free and _land_ on one of those ships—but then what? I’d just be captured again.

The intruders were nervous around the ships, too. They had all run out of their magic and were flying at a moderately-fast pace now, making sure to keep high enough in the air so that they could not be shot down.

With each mental calculation of how far from home I was, it became harder and harder to remain confident. Doubts lunged at me from all sides. _What will you do when you escape? How do you know you’ll even escape? You can never get home by yourself! You’ll never see Toothless again! What even_ are _you?_

My heart pounded. I clenched my eyes shut and hissed under my breath, “ _It is fine._ ”

On and on we flew, as the sun chased the darkness of night away.

By the time the dragons stopped on a small, rocky island, the sun was almost at its highest point and I was sore and exhausted. About half of the group kept going, shouting something down to the rest of us. A familiar-looking dragon lead them, but they were obstructed from view too quickly for me to try to figure out who they were.

The colorful dragon landed and set me down with surprising gentleness, humming and clucking. The moment I was free, I darted as far away from him as far as I could—which wasn’t much, considering the island was tiny for a group this size. These dragons had really gone all-out; they’d attacked our nest with an equal force.

Now every single one of them was focused on me. Dragons of all shapes and sizes inched closer, heads tipped aside as they took in my scent.

I fought to look dignified, to gain control of my frantic breathing and to keep the fear out of my body language.

I needed Toothless.

The thought sent a sudden wave of despair through me. I crumpled up, ducking my head and looking away. What was I going to do? How would I get home without him? Did he even know I was still alive? What would—

 _Focus, Hiccup!_ I scolded myself again. _Feel sorry for yourself when you’re back home!_

I pushed through the fear and made myself straighten up a little more. The movement sent pain searing through my injured arm. I hissed through clenched teeth.

The colorful dragon frowned at me with pity. He ducked his head once and muttered an apology, but for what, I didn’t know.

They all began chirping questions in their staccato accents. Closer and closer they came. I scooted backwards until I was right on the edge of the beach, the ocean foam spraying at my back and soaking my clothes and hair. My skin crawled with the sensation of a hundred eyes on me, a hundred minds to convince, a hundred different ways that I could fail.

I had to stay calm. I had to stay calm. I had no clue what to do, but I did know one thing: if I just rolled over for them, submitting to them, then I would never be able to convince them to take me home.

The black Two-Walker that had grabbed me all those nights ago came too close, craning her neck inches away from my face with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Her teeth shone in the midday sun, and I caught a whiff of smoke on her breath—she was prepared to fire.

 _“Away!_ ” I warned, clawing at the air just in front of her nose. She leapt back, flapping her wings, and the surrounded dragons flinched away. I hunched over on my four paws and arched my back, covering most of my body with my wings and baring my teeth up at them. I could almost feel a phantom tail swaying back and forth, ears and side-frills pinned against my skull.

A staring contest commenced between me and the uncountable dragons—one that I had no hope of winning and very quickly lost, buried under their collective pressure. They looked to their leader for guidance, many now confused and agitated.

In their questions, I caught that paradox again, that word that was two things but also one.

Dragon? Human?

The black Two-Walker fluttered her wings and snorted indignantly, taking on an “I-told-you-so” tone of voice. That kind of disrespect would have normally made a dragon as old as the leader at least a little upset, but he shrugged it off like water.

He hushed his nestmates, pointed at me with his grayed muzzle, and asked me a simple question. Dragon? Human?

I almost wanted to burst into hysterical laughter and tears. Even _they_ couldn’t tell.

All of the dragons had fallen silent, waiting for a response. Once again, the urge to shrink in their shadows, to curl up and pretend not to understand, was almost overwhelming.

Lifting myself higher, I met the leader’s eyes. My throat was worn raw, but still I raised my voice, “ _Why?_ ”

The colorful dragon blinked in surprise. His nestmates began chattering. They were nervous now, confused and uncertain.

I studied their almost fearful expressions and asked louder, “ _Why?_ ”

With a snort, the leader closed the distance between us and bent his neck to sniff me. I stiffened and all but turned to stone, not twitching a muscle even as he nosed my wings.

He retreated, perplexed, and asked me the same question as before.

I kind-of had an idea of what he was saying…but _why_ was it so important to them?

At my confused silence, apprehension flickered in his eyes and shook his voice. He cleared his throat and snapped at his nestmates to get them to be quiet.

His next sentence was pronounced almost excruciatingly slow, even slower than Toothless spoke when he taught me words.

“… _Savior…?...what_ … _you…?_ ”

This was followed immediately by: Dragon? Human?

They were _definitely_ asking what I thought they were. My shoulders drooped. I couldn’t answer that, not even when I so desperately _needed_ to.

“ _Why?_ ” I asked again in an effort to dodge the question. “Why _all this?_ ”

“ _W-h-y?_ ” The colorful dragon parroted back at me, drawing the word out thrice as long as I had. His eyes were wide, his tail flicking and wings fluttering.

“ _Yes._ ” I nodded and twisted around, pointing with my nose back south. “ _Home!_ ” I growled, baring my teeth at him and throwing as much resentment into the word as I could.

The leader’s wings dropped, and he shook his head and muttered something in disbelief. The black Two-Walker piped up again, angry now, and their nestmates around them shuffled and whimpered in confusion.

They all began to talk amongst themselves. I could hardly make out anything more than their trepidation—but there was one word that stuck out to me, a word repeated many times by many dragons in fear and anger and disappointment.

_Fledgling._

_Oh, Dragon of the Sun_ , I groaned to myself.

They thought that I was a fledgling. I guess that sort-of explained the weird reactions.

I blinked. Hope sparked in my heart, giving the shadows there pause.

“ _Home!_ ” I cried in as desperate a voice I could manage. I pitched my voice higher and abandoned all but our basic vocabulary, crying to the mass of raiding dragons, “ _Me want go home!_ ”

The intruders began to clamor, hissing at each other and at their leader.

 _Fledgling!_ Many shouted. _Fledgling!_

The leader was gaping openmouthed at me. He shook his head and frowned, squinting down his nose and pawing at the ground.

“ _Y-o-u!_ ” He said. “ _S-a-v-i-o-r?_ ”

He paused to add a noticeable space between his words. In a slow, sluggish way—so slow the meaning was almost lost entirely—he ground out:

“ _H-u-m-a-n?_ ”

I flinched, and then tried to look confused. “ _N-no!_ ”

This was the breaking point for the intruding dragons. They gave shouts of horror, rearing up and flapping their wings, their eyes wide and guilty.

In all the chaos, the colorful dragon was the only one who retained a calm posture. He leaned down until he was nose-to-nose with me, his eyes inches away. They had a calculating glint to them, and in their reflection, I saw my own: nervous and frightened.

I didn’t have to understand what he said next.

The strike was so unexpected that a scream ripped from my throat. I was pounded into the sand, the ocean washing over my ears and muffling the uproar filling the entire island. There was no use struggling, but I did anyways, trying to throw off the single paw he was pinning me with.

He stared down his muzzle at me and locked in on my prosthetic leg, which had been hidden from sight by my wings up until now.

“ _H-u-m-a-n_ ,” he growled. “ _S-a-v-i-o-r._ ”

“ _No!_ ” I shouted, writhing under his claws. “ _Help! Please!_ ”

His nestmates came to my aid, hissing at him and pleading with him. The word _fledgling_ sprung up more and more. The leader shook them all off, snorting in a disbelieving tone at each dragon’s insistence that I was a helpless baby dragon.

He spent several seconds more studying me, hard eyes flicking over my body.

When he finally relented, I gasped a huge breath of air and sat up, my limbs weak and sluggish. The black Two-Walker stepped over and purred soothingly, cooing at me and giving me a quick lick on the cheek.

“ _Home_ ,” I gasped, still keeping up the act even though it was useless. “ _Me go home. Please._ ”

The leader gave a sad shake of his head. He even dipped his head in a half-bow. His nestmates gawked at him, shooting me incredulous looks.

“ _S-o-r-r-y_ ,” he said earnestly.

He met my gaze, and his expression steeled with determination.

“… _S-a-v-i-o-r._ ”

**o.O.o**

The leader chose to carry on despite his nestmates’ disagreement.

Even though he had lost his temper on me earlier, he allowed me to be carried _on_ a dragon rather than in their claws, which was significantly less awful. I ended up on the back of a Flame-Skin. He was the same one that had been part of the group that had first tried to kidnap me, that night so long ago when the fledgling Hum-Wing went missing. After taking everything into account, they must have been scouts on that night.

Scouts sent specifically to find me.

With each passing second, anxiety send uncontrollable shudders through my body. This was real. They were taking me, and there was nothing I could do. Hope died inside me like a fire fizzling out in the rain, easily overcome.

“ _Home_ ,” I repeated endlessly, still going out of my way to talk like a fledgling. “ _Me need go home. Please, me go home._ ”

The Flame-Skin murmured apology after apology to me. He seemed conflicted and confused, much like the rest of his nestmates, but didn’t even try to question his leader. Every attempt I made to sway him and convince him I was a fledgling was met with a saddened, yet resolute “sorry”.

It was a long, frigid, horrible journey. After spending the entirety of the previous night awake, I was completely exhausted by the time the sun had begun to set.

I stared at the brilliant light on the western horizon, resting my head on the Flame-Skin’s back and eyes half lidded.

I missed Toothless. I missed him so, so much.

I was incomplete without him at my side. Toothless was part of me, and I him. We were Kings together—and nothing alone. Without him, I was just some scrawny, one-legged… _thing_ that needed saving. Without him, I was stripped of all sense of security, of all comfort, of all warmth.

Without him, I was empty.

It was like the weight of the ocean, forcing me into submission. Every couple of seconds, I would slip away into unconsciousness under its pressure—only to wake up, suddenly alert, thinking the whole thing had been a bad dream.

Each reminder that we were separated was like a blade plunged into my gut, its hand giving it a cruel and slow twist to draw out the agony of it. In fleeting waking moments, my mind whirled through the past, tormenting me with should-have-done’s and what-if’s. What if I had opened my wings earlier? Later? Should I have stayed on the ground, as cowardly as it was? What if I had actually focused on the battle instead of my own problems?

This was all my fault. If I’d just…if I hadn’t…if I’d instead…

...and now Toothless was _alone._ He was _alone_ and he didn’t even know that I was still _alive_ and I knew that it was _shredding_ through his heart just as much as it was mine. This was the second time that I put him through this—and this time, I wasn’t even home to fix everything.

This time, there was a big chance that Toothless wouldn’t be there.

He would never forgive himself.

I curled up, hands curled into fists and jaw clenched. The thought of the pain Toothless would go through if I was gone was too unbearable to dwell on.

I had to make this right, to find hope. I couldn’t give up.

More than anything, I had to believe that we were going to see each other again. Our last memories of each other would _not_ be the terror and agony of being stolen, the sudden, ripping pain of being separated for no reason.

Despite all the pain and weariness seeping through my limbs, I forced myself to sit up and face towards the north. Even now, the sunset to my left drew my eye like moths fluttering around a torch. I turned my head and stared into the dying rays of light.

Was Toothless watching this same sunset?

It was a comforting thought, that we could still share something even like this.

We journeyed on into the thick blanket of the night. The fog at our tails dissipated from sight and, eventually, I lost my way. The islands and the ships sailing between them became unfamiliar, and the darkness closed in like a thick, swooping wave, swallowing us into its midst and leaving no trace behind. 


	13. Chapter 12

 

Hiccup

We were nearing the nest.

It was heart-stoppingly bigger than the Queen’s—at least twice in size. Its entire surface was coated in slick, frozen spines, so smooth and perfectly-shaped that I boggled at the sight. They seemed to snatch the moonlight from the sky, glowing like brilliant, dangerous beacons against the inky-black ocean. Drafts of frigid air blasted us as we neared it.

There was _something_ coming from it. It was like a reverberating hum, but it was so low that I more felt it in my chest than heard it. Somehow, it was incredibly familiar.

“ _It is fine_ ,” I whispered to myself, my claws clenching around the Flame-Skin’s spines. “ _It is fine._ ”

The nest loomed overhead, reaching up into the sky like an armored mountain. The dragons swooped around its spines and ducked into the gaps between them, deep into passageways concealed from the outside. I had a moment to brace before the Flame-Skin did the same, tucking his wings in and diving.

A blast of bitter cold swept over me. Darkness rushed past. The foreigners’ voices echoed with greetings and “we’re back”s and, strangely enough, cautious warnings.

And then, warmth.

We burst out into an inner cavern so suddenly that I nearly lost my grip. The ice above reflected the moonlight in a ghostly glow, providing dim illumination. A faint fog hung about, shining in the light in an otherworldly manner. It was condensed near the bottom of the cavern, where I could see a bubbling pool of water amidst the fog—a hot spring. Plants were creeping along every non-ice surface, and in the center of the cavern rose a giant pillar that reached the tops of the ice spines like a claw tearing at them.

The hum became louder—a heavy, steady rumble that vibrated just loud enough for me to hear and feel it.

Dragon eyes glowed brilliantly in the shadows, huddled together in little clusters. They almost looked like a dim spattering of stars. Seeing how few there were, I was reminded of the many nights of my childhood spent huddling and shivering close to a campfire on a forced “learn how to be a Viking” trip. I would stare up at where the stars _should_ have been, but the light from the fires had always been too strong, swallowing the stars up in its brilliant light and leaving only a few of the lucky ones to stay in the black above. When I was a little kid, it had scared me to see the sky suddenly empty.

Dad had always been there, that lifetime ago.

We swooped around the claw pillar and landed on a grassy overhang, and the impact was enough to draw me out of my trip down memory lane. The Flame-Skin stooped, and I eagerly leapt off of him.

It was a rough landing. I grunted and shook it off, making sure to stay crouched on four paws. The thick, soft undergrowth brushed against my sides, all but concealing my body from sight.

“ _Home!_ ” I tried one last time, my voice hoarse from all my yelling earlier. “ _Why? Why me here?_ ”

The Flame-Skin hunched with guilt. He tried to nuzzle me like I was his own, but I was too tired and _anxious_ to tolerate the fake affection. The only dragons I _ever_ felt that close to were a staggering distance away.

I spat a short, high-strung hiss at him, lifting my claws. He paused, eyes half-lidded with sad acceptance, and drew away.

“ _Aww_ ,” a few observing dragons cooed. There was more chatter of fledglings.

I tried to keep my tension from showing in my face and body language. As a respected member of my nest and a King, it was definitely _annoying_ to be treated like a dumb baby. But even with the group’s leader seeing through my poorly-strung lies, if I kept it up…

The dragon in question landed besides me. He gave a formal nod. “ _S-a-v-i-o-r._ ”

The Flame-Skin rolled his eyes and made a pressing comment about fledglings. He nodded at me and growled in exasperation.

The colorful dragon merely raised a brow at him and turned to me.

“ _K-i-n-g_ ,” he sounded out.

“ _No_ ,” I lied. “Please _listen. Me need go home. Nestmate need me._ ”

He blinked at me in confusion and shook his head. Nodding for me to follow, he trotted down the grassy plateau that hung out over the hot spring.

I hesitated and stepped carefully after him. While I had done so many times in the past, walking on four legs was a lot harder than it needed to be with an injured front leg. It slowed me down much more than I was comfortable with, and the fastest pace I could manage was a slow crawl through. It didn’t help that the foliage reached up over my head, making it harder to see where I was going.

I stopped next to where the leader had waited for me and popped my head up over a large fern. It shifted back over to cover my body, and in a fluster, I grabbed its stem and held it down under me. A muffled chuckle slipped from between his lips, and he quickly turned away and pretended that it wasn’t him.

The beginnings of a growl rumbled in my chest. I shifted my eyes around. Literally _everything_ here was bigger than me—even the plants. It was not hard to feel like I really _was_ a fledgling, surrounded by adults much more capable than myself.

“ _King_ ,” the colorful dragon said again.

“ _No me_ ,” I grumbled, peering from side to side. By now, the entire nest had spotted me and was focused on me. All that could be heard was the ever-constant rumbling from the hot spring.

Something was...wrong. The inside of this nest was enormous, and yet the whole group of dragons were dwarfed by it. I leaned over the edge of the cliff to see if maybe the rest of them were taking a swim...or something.

The hot spring erupted.

I yelped and reared away. The water exploded past me in a great burst. The colorful dragon snagged me by the scruff and dragged me back, apologizing as he went.

Warm rain spattered around us. The fog shifted around something—something huge and imposing and _loud_.

Two tusks emerged from the fog. Then radiant blue eyes—almost glowing in the moonlight, deep and old, wise and stern. And then...

My heart stopped. I froze where I was, suddenly incapable of moving.

The dragon was twice the size of the Queen, looming overhead and casting us in soft shade. His scales were white with age, but some graying showed that he used to have black scales. His entire head filled the cavern, his crown of spines brushing up against the ice.

“ _King_ ,” the colorful dragon repeated. He bowed, but in a weird way. He placed one paw straight in front of himself, pressed his forehead into the ground, and flared his wings as far up as possible. His few nestmates all did the same.

I stood there, crouched almost in a battle stance, and refused to lower my eyes. I would not bow to him. Not after everything his nestmates had done.

Not when he reminded me so much of the Queen.

I struggled to keep my breathing under control and my attention _here_ , in the present. The shadow clawed through my thoughts, filling my mind with memories of the last time I had been in this position. Of the Queen’s victorious grin, of her fake “soothing” voice, of the heat searing through my paws...

Toothless had been at my side then.

The King’s eyes settled on mine, and I couldn’t help but press a little closer to the small canopy around me. The fern slid out from under my hand and threw darkness over me. I flinched.

Nothing happened. An abrupt silence made my ears ring. It took me a moment to notice—the rumbling, humming sound was gone.

The King spoke, but his voice was too big, too deep. It vibrated in my chest and just inside hearing range, exactly like the humming.

I shuddered, clenching my eyes shut. The Queen’s eyes sprung up in my mind’s eye, her shadow flaring and threatening to overtake me.

 _It’s not real_ , I growled to myself. I opened my eyes and focused on the behemoth in front of me. _…I hope…_

The King’s expression was hard to read. It was like seeing me was expected, but still a surprise to him. He shifted closer, speaking softer, eyes focused with lethal, pinpoint accuracy.

I didn’t have fire.

I shrunk under the looming intensity of his gaze, the almost unnatural way he seemed to glow with power in the dim moonlight.

I didn’t have wings.

Those eyes got closer and closer. He spoke again, and it was both almost impossible to hear and also booming against my eardrums, making the insides of my ears rattle. His voice alone was a physical force.

I couldn’t escape from this.

Not from this King that was just as intimidating as the Queen had once been, that had been sending raids out just like the Queen once had. Not when it was getting harder and harder to breathe, to see, to _think_ as the past blended with the present before my eyes and as my heart hammered painfully in my chest.

I took a deep breath, struggling to remain in-control, and tried to ground myself the only way I knew how: Toothless. Fear of another episode was already lurking in the corners of my mind, and I forced myself to ignore it, thinking of Toothless instead and pretending that he was here next to me.

I had to stay calm. I had to stay calm.

The King’s stern frown softened and he backed off. His crown of frills twitched around. Then he tilted his head, letting one of his house-sized tusks rest just next to me.

I stepped away from it, back arched. He could so much as sneeze and accidentally crush me to death.

The colorful dragon purred reassuringly. Before I could send him a look, he bent down, nipped at one of my hands, and set it on the King’s tusk.

I stared up at the King, and he stared back.

It hit me first deep in my bones, making me quiver uncontrollably.

Then I noticed it.

It was _something_ else, something _foreign_ and _unwelcome_ invading my thoughts. It crept just outside my empty shell of magic, the only place that I could notice it, and found its place there.

 _Greetings, Savior_ , the King said.

The nest set aflame.

A horrified shriek ripped from my throat. I lurched away as the Queen loomed in closer. She hushed and cooed at me, her voice full of false sympathy and her eyes warm and inviting. Yet the stones beneath me were searing-hot, burning through my paws and leaving black scorches wherever they made contact.

“ _No!_ ” I hissed, writhing on the ground and clawing at my head. It was too hot—I couldn’t breathe!

Not again! Not here!

My body burned with sharp spikes of terror, and the shadow of the past seized the opportunity. It lunged at my magic, gnawing away at it like a starving animal, destroying the link Toothless and I shared. I was blinded by it all, choking in the inferno.

 _It’s not real!_ I snarled at it, almost begging it to just leave me _alone_. _It’s not—_

She was dragging me down—she was alive, she was taking me away again, she was going to turn me into a _monster_ again! I was drowning, but not in the cold ocean underneath a sky aflame with soulfire, but in the dark fires she had planted through my mind, sucking me away—!

Blood dripped from my fangs and claws, and I met my father’s eye amidst the battle. Something else seized control of my body, forcing me to flinch away. He drew his sword and charged me, and the fires only intensified, burning through my flesh, burning through my mind!

I was going to die—I was going to wither away into nothing, into a monster.

I scrambled for purchase, but the shadow had curled around me like a constrictor, clenching so tight that it felt my ribs were caving in. I choked in the burning air as the smog filled my lungs.

A wave of frost rushed over me in a gale, sucking the heat away in an instant.

“…not real…” I whispered.

I wracked with violent, heaving shakes as a cold sweat burst across my skin. My heart burned, making every shallow and frantic breath sting more than the last. I stared wide-eyed into the glowing fog of the nest. My entire body suddenly felt foreign, controlled by something else, not _me._ It was like I’d suddenly become as heavy as the Queen, crumbling under my own weight. There was nothing I could do, nothing I could control.

I was completely helpless.

“ _T-Toothless_ ,” I tried to remind myself in a small, thin voice, curling up into a ball and clawing at my hair.

A shocked silence had befallen the nest, one nobody dared to break. I huddled there, rattling and sucking in huge gasps of air like I was about to dip underwater and fill my lungs with stinging brine and saltwater.

It felt like hours of had passed before a dragon nosed me, asking frightened breathless questions.

I didn’t move. It was like my arms and legs had been pinned down at every joint, locking me in place.

With gentle tugs, the colorful dragon pulled my arms away and craned his neck to look at me. His eyes were huge, baffled, terrified. In a shaking voice, he asked me questions that I didn’t bother to try understanding.

Behind him, the King had retreated far back, his eyes shining with clear surprise but his jaw locked. He frowned as he studied me.

I didn’t have the energy to feel nervous or threatened anymore.

He murmured something to his nestmates. The dragons did not cry out in understanding as our nestmates would, but instead gave sharp, military-like chirps. They echoed in their hollow, empty nest.

The King dropped back down into the depths of the hot spring. Moments later, the humming returned.

The colorful dragon settled down at my side, babbling in concern and confusion. He chirped at the dragons behind him and curled his long neck around me like he would around his own fledgling. The ground vibrated and shifted as more and more dragons huddled closer, each with the same confused and pitied look in their eyes. Many still murmured soft comforts, the word _fledgling_ appearing every now and then.

The entire nest lied down around us. Although it was still surprisingly small, it was still more than I’d ever seen huddled together in one spot. Their entire invading force—their entire _nest_ , I realized—were all here, trying to offer comfort.

I wanted to push them all away—to snarl at them for acting concerned, like this was some unavoidable problem, or an accident, or that they were worried for me. _Toothless_ would be worried for me. _Toothless_ would know what to do, he would find a way to make me laugh and cheer me up, he would validate my fears and work through them with me, he would reassure me that I was safe with him. He would knock some sense into me when I convinced myself I was a total screw-up, that I had just messed everything up for good. Because I had needlessly freaked out _again_ , and that nothing I could ever do would keep it from happening.

But Toothless wasn’t here.

Here in this foreign and ethereal and thrumming nest, I was surrounded by more dragons than I had ever been in my life.

I had never felt more alone.

**o.O.o**

The weak light of sunrise was just peaking into the nest when I snapped awake.

I sat up with a start and whipped my head around. The ice glimmered soft pinks and oranges and the shadows of the nest were still deep emeralds and indigos. The nest was surprisingly warm, bringing comfort—and with it, sleep. Almost all of the dragons around me were asleep.

 _Almost_ all of them.

I turned to my left and nearly leapt out of my skin at seeing the colorful dragon wide awake, staring at me with pinpoint intensity.

Another dragon was curled up at his side, letting his tail wrap casually around him and his wing resting atop his back. He was huge and had a distinct frill surrounding his head. Even in the dim light, his orange scales seemed to glow like a beacon. He, too, was staring at me, although his eyes were soft and pitied.

He asked me a gentle question— _how do you feel?_ —and I bristled.

I recognized his voice.

The colorful dragon had no doubt been the leader of the raid. But _this_ dragon had been the one watching above, ready to leap to anyone’s aid as I used to in the Queen’s raids. _This_ dragon had been the one to shout a final order to his nestmates to push one last time to kidnap me.

 _This_ dragon had been the one to knock me off of Toothless with his fire.

The colorful dragon looked between the two of us with growing confusion—and then, with a small chirp, he seemed to put two and two together. He immediately stammered something, apologizing to me and using the word _Savior_ several times.

The orange dragon lifted a brow at him, narrowed his eyes, and hissed a half-hearted scolding. I caught the words _danger_ and _fledgling_ , followed by some not-so-gentle accusations.

I was too tired to try to piece everything together. Now that the scare of waking up had worn off, I was rapidly plummeting back into the exhaustion that had knocked me out in the first place.

I was so, so tired. That, more than anything, dominated my thoughts. It left the rest of me an empty shell, just as hollow and barely-there as the nest around me. I couldn’t even feel _sad_ anymore, or embarrassed, or scared, or...or…

Dragoness of the Moon, what was even the point? How would I get home? _Would_ I get home?

I closed my eyes and forced a deep breath.

 _Stop it, Hiccup_ , I told myself.

I thought of Toothless. Of our nestmates. Of Dad.

I had to be strong. I had to find hope.

Something warm and smooth poked me in the forehead. I snapped my eyes open and flinched away from the colorful dragon, who had been trying to rouse me. The orange dragon didn’t wait a moment to begin hissing at him, complaining of _fledgling_ and _need sleep_ and, among other things, _stupid!_

The colorful dragon rolled his eyes and snorted that I was most certainly _not_ a fledgling. The orange dragon scoffed.

I stared at them as they spat with each other like an elderly mated pair, both of them completely certain that they were right and throwing their heads at me every so often to “prove” a point.

“ _Stop_ ,” I said, my voice hoarse and faint.

Both of them jolted towards me.

“ _Please…_ ” I closed my eyes, almost couldn’t open them again, and sighed. “ _Tell me...why?_ ”

The orange dragon had his head tipped almost completely to the side. The colorful dragon made some sort of snooty “I’ll take this from here” comment, cleared his throat, and straightened upright.

“ _L-o-o-k_ ,” he drew out, pointing with his nose in the general direction of the nest. He drooped, and for the first time, his calm demeanor seemed to break. He lowered his head under the weight of something terrible, and the orange dragon instantly went from jabbing insults to purring comforts, nuzzling him.

I _had_ been looking. What I’d seen was an eerily-empty nest, an enormous cavern barely half-full. There was a kind of sad quiet about it even with everyone huddled together. It didn’t help that the only sound was the soft bubbling of the hot spring and that ever-present humming coming from the King.

Something was still off, I knew.

“ _You nest...small_ ,” I finally said, dragging each sound out as clearly as I could.

The colorful dragon shook himself off and returned to his prim posture. He looked deep into my eyes, his own swarming with grief and regret, and gestured again at his nestmates.

“ _Look_ ,” he said again. He gave a short explanation, but I only caught the words _fledgling_ and _young._

The orange dragon lowered his eyes and frills. He pointed at me, and scolded again _fledgling_ and _danger_...and this time, he growled that he wanted to protect me.

My head was beginning to pound. I scanned over the nest for what felt like the hundredth time.

I went rigid as I finally understood _why_ I had noticed something off about this nest.

The orange dragon couldn’t seem to bear it anymore. He drew his tail protectively around me, promising me that he would keep me safe, still absolutely certain that I was a fledgling in need of help.

The colorful dragon repeated his explanation one last time.

_All of our young are gone._

**o.O.o**

Toothless

The scouts had yet to return.

With every passing moment with no news, good or bad, my thoughts raced with possibilities. Against my will, horrible visions lunged into my consciousness. Hiccup being dropped into the ocean, abandoned to drown. His small, fragile skin ripped under claws and teeth and burned under blazing fire. Left alone on some desolate island, to spend his final starving days alone. His last memories of me those of battle, his last memories of his father a terrible argument.

I wept.

I might as well have been broken into shards. Hiccup was my brother. He was half of me, and he was the better half. Suddenly I felt insecure as King, stupid and naïve, foolish and prone to failure. Hiccup was always the kinder and more reasonable of us; now I feared that I would make a terrible mistake in his absence, that I was _already_ making terrible mistakes.

I was useless. Gods damn it, I was _useless._

The soulfire had taken a heavy toll on me, leaving me weakened and lethargic. Even after eating several healing-leaves, my strength was only just returning. I didn’t need to be told that if I ever abused soul-magic again, that it would do much more than sap the energy from my body and fill me with pain.

I knew that the agony that sliced through me was not a consequence, but a _warning._ Soul-magic had a corrupting influence on those who misused it. The lesson had been learned, and yet no good had come of it.

I had no clue of what to do.

I never left the northern edge of the island, never let my eyes leave the blurred line where the ocean blended into the sky. The remainder of our nest still on Berk huddled at my sides, an eerie silence stretched between them.

There was nothing to see. For some time, an odd plume of fog had been visible. It had almost forced my attention to it, and for some time I had prayed that the elders would return from it with Hiccup. It had hung on the horizon for many hours after Astrid and the King had yelled some sense into me, only to fade away into the midafternoon heat.

My heart raced as the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky. I was getting more and more jittery, like any moment now I would have to leap into action.

I couldn’t take it.

I raised my voice and shouted, “Nestmates! We must send another flare!”

Their eyes widened. They looked at each other.

One of the eldest present was the middle-aged Hum-Wing whom I had spoken to at the docks all those days ago. She took a few steps to my side.

“My King,” she said, presenting a deep bow. “With all due respect, is it wise to send so many?”

I reared my head in shock. “Is finding Hiccup _unwise?_ ”

“No, of course not,” she said empathetically. “But all of the elders are gone, and a considerable number of our nest as well. We are at our weakest, with half our numbers present and all our elderly out at sea. A good number of our nestmates are wounded and unable to defend themselves, and are only made more vulnerable with each flare we set out.”

She was right. Yet the alternative was to wait, as we had for _hours._

“We have to find him!” I said, my voice raising in pitch and volume. “We can’t just sit here and do _nothing!_ ”

She bowed once more. “I respect you too much to hold my tongue, my King. But it is ultimately your choice. If you believe I am wrong, then I will follow you.”

“I’ll go!” Cried the excitable young Nightmare, puffing up to make himself look bigger. “I don’t mind!”

The Hum-Wing was making perfect sense. I knew that. Hell, she was making the very same points that _Hiccup_ would have likely noticed.

But…

“We _have_ to find Hiccup,” I whispered, facing north.

The Hum-Wing pressed her side against mine to offer comfort. “We shall,” she said. “If you believe it is in his best interest to send more flares, then I will not defy you, my King. I merely want to add more perspective.”

“I know…I know…” I murmured, eyes flicking back and forth across the horizon. With a shake, I dipped my head to her and added, “Thank you.” Twisting to our nestmates, I asked, “Are there any who feel comfortable leaving?”

Several raised their voices in bravado and determination. I nodded once.

There was a cacophony of roars, a heavy draft, and roughly twelve dragons launched from Berk and flew north.

The Hum-Wing remained at my side, her eyes glinting with a small amount of disappointment. “I pray to the Dragon of the Sun that we find him,” she said. She looked over her shoulders, and I followed her gaze to the blackened scar that was Berk.

The humans were already hard at work, rebuilding wood-caves and clearing the debris. The King had been busy organizing it all and sending out floating-trees to hunt more, but still had found the time to approach me almost every other hour to ask for news.

“My King, perhaps you should check on our wounded?” The Hum-Wing suggested. “It would do them well to see you, I imagine.”

She left out the obvious: that she thought it would do _me_ well to leave the cliffsides as well.

Guilt washed over me. As King, I shouldn’t have to be _told_ such simple matters—I should just know.

 _Hiccup_ would have known.

“R-right,” I said, forcing myself to my feet. “You’re right. Thank you, Hum-Wing.” I met her eyes and bowed to her again. “I appreciate your straightforwardness more than anything.”

“Of course, my King,” she said modestly, but could not hold back a proud grin. She gave a deep bow and faced north. “I shall keep watch for you. Rest assured, if anything happens, you will be the first to know.”

I nodded and, for the first time that day, stepped away from the cliffs.

As I left, our nestmates began to murmur amongst themselves. They were worried—but not just for Hiccup.

I tried not to let it bother me.

**o.O.o**

There were so many.

It was hard to keep track of all of the injured—in all the chaos, most had settled down in the first clear area they could find. It seemed that every corner I rounded presented me with yet another injured nestmate. I thanked every one of them, and bore through the agony of telling each one that Hiccup had _still_ not returned.

Yet the presence of our wounded in the human nest didn’t fill me with unease. In fact…

I stood ramrod-straight in the middle of a burned pathway, my jaw hanging open at the sight before me.

Stormfly saw me first and cried out enthusiastically.

Noodles twisted around on his perch to face me. So did Astrid.

And so did “Dog’s-Breath”.

The injured Two-Walker was nestled just outside a tree-cave that had been spared of the fire. There was a considerable amount of debris, making walking over a lot more dangerous than necessary. I picked my way through twisted metal, splintering wood, and rough stone.

“Hi, King!” Stormfly wheezed. With a small whimper, she flapped her wings and forced herself to her feet.

“Stormfly, _no!_ ” Astrid commanded, whipping around and holding her paws up. “You gotta stay down, girl. Stormfly, down!”

Stormfly purred at her and took several shaking steps towards me.

I eyed her unsteady gait and picked up the pace. “Stormfly, wait—”

“ _Ah!_ ” Stormfly suddenly squealed. She flinched, her ankle gave out, and she fell.

“Dog’s-Breath” lunged in front of her, braced himself, and held her up by the shoulders. I rushed over to him, piercing my paws on the debris, and reared up to grab her scruff. Together, we set her down as gently as we could. Astrid crouched down next to Stormfly the moment she was settled, worrying over her wounds.

“Oh, Thor—thank you, both of you,” Astrid said, paws fluttering over Stormfly to check on her. “She keeps acting like she’s fine when she’s not. It’s everything I can do to keep her here at my house.”

I nodded breathlessly. No matter how small, the sudden exertion had left me trembling and panting. I sat down at Astrid’s side and licked the blood from my paws, trying to hide them before Stormfly could see. As I did so, I glanced at “Dog’s-Breath” through the corner of my eye.

The human was also winded, although he was pretending not to be. He met my confused stare.

“There was nothin’ to it,” he said with gruff nonchalance, like he did this every day. Noodles leapt up onto his shoulder and he gave him an absentminded pat on the head.

I noticed right away that he was just as injured as every other human I’d seen. Burned, clawed, haggard. One of his eyes was swollen completely shut, and his fur was scorched so thoroughly on the same side that I doubted any would grow back.

Yet here he was, helping one of our nestmates.

 _Hiccup should be the one seeing this_ , I thought, my heart sinking with the realization. _He would be so happy._

_Gods, I miss him._

“You shouldn’t move!” The Little-Biter squeaked at Stormfly, drawing me from my thoughts. “I didn’t use all my magic on you for you to get hurt again! It doesn’t come back fast, you know!”

“I’m…fine!” Stormfly gasped. Groaning, she got her legs under her and sat upright, wincing with clear pain.

“Stormfly!” Astrid reprimanded.

“You are _not_ fine,” I scolded. “I never thought I’d say this, but listen to Astrid. Try not to move, alright?”

Stormfly paused, tilting her head. She narrowed her eyes in deep thought. “…what’s Astrid? And where’s the other King?”

Noodles and I shared a sullen look.

“So can you answer my question?” “Dog’s-Breath” asked Astrid somewhat impatiently.

She shook her head, shifting her attention to me. “I already told you, I don’t know. Do you…” She stopped, and in a much gentler tone, asked, “How are things going?”

 I swallowed, ears and wings drooping. Shaking my head, I hunched over.

“He’s gone,” I whispered. “He’s still gone.”

“What? _How?_ ” Stormfly wailed.

“Dog’s-Breath” narrowed his eyes. “Very well, then,” he said. He faced me and squared his stance. “Night Fury. I’ve got a question to ask you, since Astrid here doesn’t know.”

I glanced at Noodles. He was calm and relaxed on the human’s shoulder, leaning his head against his cheek in such a casual manner that I would have thought he’d known him for seasons. He was looking between us with confusion, but had enough manners _not_ to interrupt, unlike Stormfly.

“Dog’s-Breath” had kept his promise.

Meeting the human’s eyes, I nodded once.

“The Chief’s son. Hiccup. He’s been taken.”

My breath rattled through my lungs. “ _Obviously_ ,” I hissed with a sneer.

He frowned, but didn’t back down. “We needed that boy here,” he said. “We needed him so that we could be safe.”

“The dragons defended all of Berk,” Astrid reminded him somewhat impatiently, clearly having explained this once already. She hugged Stormfly’s muzzle in her paws. “They do it because they _want_ to.”

I nodded in agreement with a snort.

“No,” “Dog’s-Breath” sighed. He groomed Noodles with his paw, and the tiny thing purred as loud as a Hum-Wing and leaned into him.

“We needed him for the people.”

Astrid and I turned to each other, the both of us as worn as the other.

“So, Night Fury,” the human went on, “can you take his place? Can you do for the other villagers, what Hiccup did for me?”

My jaw worked up and down.

Panic lunged from the shadows.

“ _Stop it!_ ” I cried, opening my wings. “Stop talking like he’s gone forever!”

“Wait, my King!” Noodles yipped, caught between shying away and shielding his human with his wing.

“Woah! Woah!” Astrid leapt between me and the surprised “Dog’s-Breath”, holding her paws out to me. She met my eyes, paws inches from my teeth. “Easy, Toothless. Easy.”

I heaved and closed my eyes, taking a moment to recompose myself.

When I cracked my eyelids open, Astrid was crouched at my eye level, brows drawn in with worry.

“It’s okay,” she said in an odd, gentle voice. She hesitated, and then placed a paw on my forehead. “We’re gonna find him.”

The warmth from her paw was something to focus on, to bring my thoughts together. A few seconds too late, I nodded.

“Toothless…” Astrid began. “Is something…is something _wrong?_ Are you still hurt?”

I pulled away from her, shaking my head. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not!” Stormfly squawked flippantly.

“Hush!” Noodles reprimanded.

“Dog’s-Breath” gave a sad shake of his head, shoulders drooping. “So that’s a ‘no’, then,” he mumbled, surprisingly forlorn.

“No!” Astrid said. “No. He’s just freaked out because he’s scared for Hiccup. We just gotta get him back, and—and didn’t you say there were dragons looking for him?” Astrid directed this at me. “Are they back yet?”

I shook my head.

“Well, then,” “Dog’s-Breath” huffed. “That’s all I needed ta know. I hope yer dragon recovers, Astrid. And you, Night Fury…”

We stared into each other.

“I wish you a swift recovery as well,” he eventually said.

Just like that, he spun on his foot and walked away.

“Um, farewell, my King!” Noodles called awkwardly from atop his human’s head.

“Bye, nice Little-Biter!” Stormfly returned.

Astrid and I stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Her eyes were set forward, ahead—mine were still focused away, into the past.

“Okay, spill. What’s _really_ wrong?”

I sent her a glare. “What do you _think?_ ”

She crossed her paws across her chest and huffed. “You’ve been acting _weird_ , Toothless. And not just because Hiccup’s gone. You haven’t been yourself ever since I found you on that cliff this morning.”

Irrational anger swept through me. “What do you know about me?” I growled.

Stormfly shrunk away, whimpering.

Astrid fearlessly reached out and put her paw on my forehead again. It was enough for me to get my senses straight.

I loosened my glare, looking away and slumping. Apparently, the toll of the soul-magic was much worse than even _I_ was willing to admit.

She rubbed my forehead with her paw for a moment. It was oddly calming, like a nestmate soothing another. Eventually, it was too much for me; her soft paws reminded me far too much of Hiccup. I twitched away and  she dropped her paw.

“We’re gonna find him,” she said. “The Chief’s already got people getting ships ready, and the rest of us are rebuilding Berk. We just gotta wait for the search parties to come back.”

I took in a breath. She was right…about everything.

Whatever this… _problem_ was, I had to get over it. I had to step up and be a King—not a panicked, frightened fledgling crying out for his brother. For Hiccup’s sake.

I straightened up to my feet and narrowed my eyes.

“We’re going to bring him home,” I snarled to the north, baring my teeth.

Astrid chuckled.

“Now _that’s_ more like the Toothless I know.”

**o.O.o**

I saw him first.

He was running towards the northern edge of Berk, which was still occupied by a force of nestmates ready to launch at the first sign of invasion. He was coming from an easterly direction, where the docks were.

“King!” I hailed.

He skidded to a halt and whipped around, eyes wide. We met each other halfway. I was forced to sit down, my legs were so sore.

“Toothless,” the King breathed. “I was just looking for you. Is there—”

I shook my head. The hope lighting his features was swept away.

He spared a moment, and then straightened with resolve. “Then we go without them.”

“…We?” I repeated.

The King didn’t catch the question in my tone, pacing in front of me just like Hiccup always did. “We know they’re far in the north—from what Trader Johann told us, several days’ worth of sailing.” He reached to his side and pulled out a piece of paper, unraveling it and holding it at my eye level.

It was the drawing of all the islands that had been attacked that “Trader Johann” the human had used.

“If this is the first island that was attacked, where would the nest be?” The King demanded. “Do you know?”

I…didn’t understand the drawing. It made the islands all look so close to each other, like they were small stones in a puddle.

“I don’t,” I said, shaking my head.

The King’s eyes swam with fear and anxiety. “Then…we move forward regardless.”

“ _No._ ” I threw my head with a snort. “ _Need know where us need go. Stupid us fly no where know._ ”

The King stared in confusion.

I cast my eyes down. Without even realizing it, I had spoken in our language with the expectation that Hiccup would be there to translate for me.

With a shaky breath, I lifted a claw and pawed at the dirt. I hadn’t a clue how to _draw_ that. Most metaphorical concepts were extremely difficult for me to wrap my head around when trying to communicate like this. _Hiccup_ could do it in seconds whereas, with myself, it took deep concentration and thought.

I started with a circle. Then…paths…so, lines. Everywhere, representing all the different places we could go from Berk. At random, I picked the end of one line and added another circle.

I leaned back to let the King take it in. His eyes were wide with shock, mouth slightly parted.

“You…can draw?” He murmured.

“Hah,” I chuckled humorlessly. “No. That would be Hiccup.” I pointed with a claw at the first circle and then stomped on the ground several times. “ _Berk._ ” Then, touching the lines, I pointed the human way out to sea, waving my paw in a semicircle.

I put my paw on the second circle and paused.

With a trembling croon, I pressed my paw into it and then pulled it close to my heart. “ _Hiccup._ ”

The King watched this all with a worn look.

“…I don’t know how Hiccup does it,” he said after several moments of hard thought. “It’s always amazed me how he can talk to you.” He dropped his head in shame. “And I made him feel like he had to hide it from me.”

I looked into him, frowning with pinned ears. Part of me wanted to make a derisive comment, maybe add some sting to the wounds just as he had done to me earlier.

…But what was the point?

He met my unyielding, stern stare and sighed.

“So…this,” the King said, gesturing to my drawing. “What does it mean?”

I repeated the whole procedure of gestures, this time much slower. When the King shook his head in confusion afterwards, I couldn’t hold back a frustrated snort, glaring off to the side.

The King was just as annoyed, holding his elbow in his paw and pinching the bridge between his eyes.

“Alright. Scratch that,” he huffed. “Can you draw something else? Why shouldn’t we sail? Does it have to do with the nest?”

“Ah…” I hummed, scrutinizing my drawing. All things considered, I felt that it did a fairly _good_ job at expressing what I wanted.

“ _King!_ ”

I bolted to my feet, wings wide open and ears straight up. The call had come from our nestmates on the cliffs.

The King and I shared a look and took off.

The time back to our nestmates was short; we’d already been close. Regardless, I was winded and out of breath by the time I stumbled back to our nestmates, having run so slow that the King had kept an easy pace with me. We were met with the sight of our nestmates standing with stiffened limbs, half-crouched and ready to spring.

There was a group of dragons approaching from the northwest. They seemed small in number—not nearly the size of the invading force from last night.

This far away, I couldn’t tell who they were.

“Are they ours?” The King demanded. When I shrugged, a distinct _SHING_ screeched through the air as he drew his sword. The King turned back to Berk and boomed, “Dragons approaching! Catapults ready! Evacuate the wounded and children to Town Hall!”

The human nest burst into action, suddenly loud and full of frightened and angry shouts. In the midst of it, the nestmates within Berk’s ranks called out, and those that could took wing and flew above the wood-caves.

Several minutes passed. Several minutes of waiting, feeling my heart thunder in my chest as fear and hope swirled seamlessly into each other. With each second I convinced myself that they were our nestmates—that they weren’t—that they were—that they weren’t.

I would not use soulfire. I wouldn’t risk my normal magic, not unless there was a dire need. My fire had yet to return all the way.

If they struck, I would make a terrible King indeed.

They approached further. Our nestmates snarled, and I squared off and joined them, lashing my tail. The King braced himself at my side, sword raised and eyes ablaze.

Our only indication was the sound.

Hisses and growls faded away as dragons everywhere fell silent in bafflement. The King whipped his head around.

“Toothless?”

The singing dragons burst overhead.

They sounded…so empty. It was all the agony I felt of losing Hiccup put into breath, a physical form of an emotion. It was low and thrumming, reverberating through the air like a dragon several times their size was crying out in mourning. Each voice seemed to add something completely unique and yet exactly the same to those around them, forming a symphony of the same and all notes. It was full yet empty, it was loud yet soft, it was complicated yet simple.

I knew that song. Somewhere…I knew I had heard it…that it was important. That it was _familiar._

“ _Hiccup_ ,” I whispered, wide eyes locked above. I twisted my neck to follow them. “ _Hiccup_...”

Our nestmates formed a wall midair. They met our ranks.

Unanswered snarls echoed above. The singing dragons simply banked away from the blockade to the east, taking their song with them.

I stumbled forward. “ _Wait_... _Hiccup_ ….“

Human paws wrapped around my head and yanked me backwards, inches away from the edge of the cliff.

“ _Toothless!_ ” The King scolded. “Careful!”

“W-what?!” I yelped. The song became cacophonous, the singing dragons meandering further away.

I snapped alert, flicking my eyes around. The King was there—he’d grabbed me—was _still_ holding me—several of our nestmates were crouching, wings opened—

“ _Our nestmates!_ ” I roared. “Do not follow!”

Those close to me halted, turning lethargically to look at me.

Those above did not.

I stared openmouthed as some nestmates defied a direct order, wheeling after the singing dragons.

But…but _why?_

“No! _”_ I commanded to them. “ _Do not follow!_ ”

Some paused, hovered for a few seconds, and twirled around back towards Berk.

Some remained on their path, even as the rest of our nestmates cried out to them. I took immediate notice that many of them were small and skinny—they were our younger nestmates, the more rebellious.

A Little-Biter gave a terrified screech. “The fledglings!”

I squinted and gasped, leaping upright.

Amongst our young, the tiny forms of several of our fledglings could just be spotted.

I approached the cliff, shaking my head in disbelieving horror. Surely they had heard me and their nestmates—surely they knew that to charge a group of that size was suicide?

“To defy a King—!” A nestmate to my left gasped.

“We have to get them!” Shouted another.

The singing dragons were already headed northeast, taking with them that familiar yet alien song. My ears twitched as I caught it on the wind, and I shook my head to clear my mind of it.

I glanced over what was left of our nest. There were so few of us left—half of us were out in search, and now a sizable portion of our young had broken off. Many of our nestmates still looked distant, eyes half-focused.

I realized what I had to do, and took a deep breath to ready myself.

“No,” I said, my eyes never leaving the doomed fledglings. “No. We cannot.”

The words ate away at me like poison, like I’d willingly allowed a viper to plunge its fangs into my flesh.

Our nestmates gaped at me. I swallowed heavily, wondering what Hiccup would do, what he would say.

I was letting them go. I was _abandoning_ them, if my weak grasp of the situation was correct.

A terrible King I was.

“B-but—my King!” Stammered the orange Hum-Wing from before. “They will surely be attacked once they are noticed, or drown!”

“No!” I snapped. “There’s something… _wrong_ …about those dragons.” I forced myself to look into her angry, disappointed scowl. “I’m sorry. But that is an order.”

She reared her head back, eyes wide and hurt. She opened her wings and threw her head, jagged teeth snapping at the air. For a moment, I thought she would defy me.

I _hoped_ she would defy me, just as the elders had done back in the cove. They had deemed me unfit as King and defied me then, and it had been for the better.

But the elders were gone. Hiccup was gone.

With a soft growl, the Hum-Wing lowered reluctantly into a bow. “…yes, my King,” she seethed.

Our nestmates repeated her, some more willing than others. I hung my head, filled with shame.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t lose anyone more...”

 _Please, Dragoness of the Moon, let them return_ , I prayed. _Please let them just be stupid and ambitious. Please let them return._

A paw brushed my shoulder. I lifted my head to the King and shook my head.

He didn’t need to ask any more questions, even though his confusion and concern shone clear in his eyes.

We watched them go, calling out to them and praying, until they were tiny specks against a cloud of fog.

Our nestmates and fledglings did not return.

And neither did our scouts.


	14. Chapter 13

 

Hiccup

The fish plopped in front of me. It was big enough to have been a sizable meal for _Toothless_ , no less something as tiny and puny as me.

“ _Savior_ ,” the colorful dragon said with a short bow. He nestled down next to me, head tipped aside. The sunbeams filtering in through the ice above painted opalescent, rainbow stripes across his scales in vivid contrast against the green foliage surrounding us.

I poked the fish, drooping. It was still cold and wet, freshly-caught. I’d watched him fish it out from the hot spring below, which apparently had food in it.

The sun had risen and been up for hours, but I still had no appetite. Even after falling asleep from exhaustion, I had still woken up feeling as though I were drifting along a still, empty ocean. It was everything I could do to wrap my head around what I had learned last night, and I could hardly do even _that._

A nearby dragon chirped something to the colorful one in a teasing tone. I caught the words “ _fish_ ” and “ _fledgling_ ”; it seemed that she was  teasing him about offering such a huge meal to such a small “dragon”.

The colorful dragon scoffed and re-adjusted his position to make himself even _more_ dainty. I hunched over.

After all, _that_ was the major problem keeping me from sleeping at night. My skin crawled with the sensation of being a fake, a liar—which, as much as I hated it, I _was_. These dragons believed my desperate lies, ones that I fought to be the truth.

It was only a matter of time until I was found out—and then what?

I squeezed my eyes shut and took in a deep breath. I needed to keep my strength up. For Toothless.

“… _thank you_ ,” I sighed, grabbing the meal and holding it close to my mouth. I forced myself to take a bite.

Not a moment later, the colorful dragon leaned forward and helped himself to some, too.

I stopped mid-chew and blinked at him, kind-of offended. I mean, what was the point of giving me food if he was going to take some?

He mirrored my confused expression, nodding and encouraging me to have some more.

Very slowly, I swallowed and took another bite.

With a happy chirp, he went right at it for seconds.

“ _Why?_ ” I said, exasperated. “ _Why you like this?_ ”

“ _Hm?_ ” He asked, cocking his head. I groaned, throwing my head back.

The few dragons lounging close enough to hear chuckled, and the dragoness from before picked up her teasing again. The colorful dragon pretended not to notice, but for the umpteenth time, I took a moment to study their midsts.

The sunlight coming in was distorted in the ice and light fog, filling the cavern in a warm, golden glow. The dragons here equaled Berk’s nest in size, but they were dwarfed both by their nest and their King. They all had room to huddle in the sunbeams that shone through the ice pillars above, when it was obvious that normally there would have been some competition for the good spots. What the colorful dragon and the orange dragon had told me last night was true: they really _were_ missing half of their nest...their young.

Something about that sent off alarms in my head.

Even worse than that was another, much more glaring red flag: none of the dragons were _leaving._ They milled about in their empty shell of a nest, some staring longingly upwards to the skies but none flitting through the jagged ice.

If the dragons who _lived_ here couldn’t leave, that wasn’t exactly good news for me. I had to get out of here, and fast.

There was just one problem keeping me from doing that.

The King was still in the giant spring below, resting with his nose and tusks just above the water. His body was relaxed like he was sleeping, but every time I had peeked over at him, his eyes were locked on me.

I risked a glance and shuddered. There was no way I would be able to slip out of here with him watching me like that. Not to mention that he wasn’t the only one keeping a close eye on me.

The sun winked out. I flinched and threw myself down, my mind flashing back to that horrible night.

With a loud _THUMP_ , the orange dragon landed right next to us. He shot me a look that was supposed to be comforting, but still awkward enough for it to be clear that he’d never actually raised fledglings himself. I sat up somewhat bashfully, scolding myself for getting so worked up over a _shadow._

The orange dragon had been gone by the time I’d woken up; I’d never actually seen him standing upright. I was both surprised and unsurprised at how _enormous_ he was, towering up and up over me and the colorful dragon. Yet even _that_ wasn’t his most impressive feature. I couldn’t hold back a surprised yelp when he yawned and stretched out not one, but _two_ pairs of wings.

He and the colorful dragon bowed to each other, the colorful dragon much deeper and more respectful. They quickly rose...and immediately started up their bickering again.

I took another bite out of the fish as I watched them squabble with each other, not quite sure if I should interrupt this time. The four-winged dragon saw the movement, glanced at me, did a double take, and brightened.

He craned his neck closer and sniffed at the fish.

Through my memories, I heard him call out that final order—that final push that lead to my kidnapping. The colorful dragon had been the one to grab me, but even he had been following orders. I knew now it had been for, apparently, a very _dire_ reason...but that didn’t make it any better.

That didn’t make me trust him. Or _like_ him.

I narrowed my eyes just a bit and kept my paw resting on the fish, making it clear that I had not invited him to have some. “Sharing” with the colorful dragon was already pushing it...not that I really had a choice in the matter.

The four-winged dragon chuckled with a wry smile and gave me same space. He asked the colorful dragon something in an amused tone, once again using the words “ _fledgling”_ and “ _Savior”._

“ _Yes!_ ” The colorful dragon huffed. He gestured down towards the King and spoke with pride. He seemed to be saying that the King believed him—something _I_ had figured out right away.

The other dragons seemed much less convinced, raising an eyebrow at me in the most exaggerated way possible.

I glanced between the two. In another desperate act, I raised my voice higher and squeaked, “ _Home!_ _Me no King and me no Savior. Me need go home! Mother and father very worried!_ ”

The colorful dragon moaned in exasperation. The four-winged dragon squinted and snapped his head at a ninety-degree angle. I cringed and rubbed my neck.

“ _What?_ ” The four-winged dragon drew out.

The colorful dragon shrugged and said something in a nonchalant, casual tone, even throwing his head dismissively.

“ _H-o-m-e_ ,” I ground out in as desperate a voice as possible. “ _M-e…n-e-e-d—”_

The four-winged dragon shushed me, putting his wing over me in a “there, there” gesture. He crooned at me in a baby voice, speaking slower and asking dramatic questions. Among all of it was promises of keeping me safe, of protecting me.

Even though that meant my horrible acting was somehow working, I was _seriously_ getting tired of that.  I struggled to keep the annoyance out of my voice as I asked, “ _Fly me home? Please? M-e…n-o…f-l-y._ ”

The four-winged dragon shot the colorful one a smug look. The colorful dragon lifted his nose with a delicate snort, sitting with his tail wrapped nice and neat around his paws. Then, lifting his wing, the four-winged dragon leaned down until his jaw was inches away from me. I pressed my belly to the ground.

Alright, _this_ was where I drew the line. Even _I_ had enough pride left in me to not let _this_ dragon treat me this way.

“ _No!_ ” I hissed, swiping a paw at him.

He snickered and clamped his jaw on my leatherwork, lifting me up by my “scruff”. The air rushed from my lungs when the fabric pulled taut against my neck. I let out a wheeze, scrabbling at it.

The colorful dragon growled in protest. He was standing up for me, scolding the four-winged dragon even though he was outranked.

With an amused huff, the four-winged dragon readjusted his grip so that his teeth were clamped mostly around my back and stood up. With a single, powerful stroke of his wings, he took off into the air. I had no other choice than to dangle in his jaws, but that didn’t stop me from wringing around.

He took us over the cliff and swerved around the stone pillar. My heart dropped.

“ _N-no_ —” I gasped.

The four-winged dragon deposited me on a small island right in front of the King. He sank into his nest’s weird-looking bow.

I refused, wincing as I rose to my feet. Despite my shoulders hunching under the King’s heavy stare, I lifted my head.

The four-winged dragon did a double-take at me, gasped, and whacked me with his tail. He reprimanded me, gesturing at himself and whisper-yelling at me to imitate him.

I returned the look and threw my head with a snort. His jaw fell open, eyes bulging. With a snort, he raised himself to his full height. He set me with one intimidating-looking scowl, looming over me so that I was cast in his shadow.

He was already halfway through a stern lecture that would put Toothless’ to shame when the humming reverberating throughout the nest faded.

The King laughed, sending a draft of cold air over us. With a few short words, he dismissed the four-winged dragon.

He was still annoyed with me for my blatant disrespect, but knew better than to stick around. He directed a scornful and commanding hiss at me, and the message was clear: _Behave, fledgling!_

With that, he took off, swinging back above and nestling down just at the edge of the plateau. Almost all of the dragons in the nest had noticed my unwilling approach, and almost all of them were poking their heads over obstacles to get a good look. Among them, I saw the colorful dragon, the black Two-Walker, and the green Flame-Skin huddled together.

In just a few seconds, everything became quiet and still.

I winced, drawing my wings over my body and crouching close to the ground. The King’s eyes pierced deep into me.

The fabric of my wings suddenly seemed so obviously _wrong_. The hair on my head a dead give-away, my pale and soft skin even more so. The awkward way I crouched there, comfortable but still clearly not moving around the way my body was _supposed_ to.

Without saying a word to me, the King’s gaze stripped away all of my nice little disguises, revealing me for the liar I was.

I shivered under his unending stare. What confidence I had left shrunk beneath his massive power.

This was it, I realized. He had been hesitant, lying in wait, allowing me to wander through his nest with the confidence that I would not escape. For whatever reason he had wanted me here, he would succeed, and there was nothing I could do about it. This dragon was twice the size of the Queen, his nestmates equal in number, his island twice the distance from Berk as the Queen’s nest.

A wave of hopelessness crashed into me. My heart began to hammer, and sharp zings of anxiety sent my legs rattling.  I ducked my head, not in a bow, but under the weight of it all. Our gazes remained locked.

It was stupid to think I could escape. To think that I could pretend to be a fledgling until the dragons threw their paws up and took me home.

I was useless here. These dragons had given me a firm lesson that I would never have any control over my life. That all I could ever do was fall.

In the heaviness of it, a stray thought flickered, like a fire spurting to life.

 _Toothless_.

I swallowed, raising my head even as my legs rattled underneath me.

“ _Why?_ ” I whispered, locked in his eyes, unable to escape them.

The great King rumbled. Just as he had done last night, he shifted ever-so-slightly. An enormous tusk rose from the shallows, sending a wave over my small island. He placed it just next to me.

He waited.

I knew what it meant.

My limbs shook, but now from something else. I couldn’t…I _wouldn’t_ willingly hand myself over like that. I…I…

I found myself lost in those deep, old eyes. Despite it all, there was almost a gentleness to them. He had forced me into his nest. But it was clear that he would not force this on me. Not after last time.

I closed my eyes to escape, to collect my scattering thoughts. Without even meaning to, I imagined Toothless to ground myself. I tried to think of what he was doing now...only to droop at the obvious answer.

He was alone on Berk. He was terrified for me.

I knew what _he_ would do.

My chest tightened. My breath caught in my throat. My head swam with dizziness.

Opening my eyes, I lifted a trembling hand. Hesitation held me there, like a shadow had curled around my arm and was straining in the opposite direction. The air became thick and viscous, and it took all of my strength and concentration to push forward.

My fingers brushed against the King’s tusk.

 _There._ Just outside my empty shell of magic, there it was. There _his_ magic was. My chest constricted. I bared my teeth in a grimace. _For Toothless_ , I reminded myself. For Toothless, I would do this.

The King watched me, calm and relaxed. He rumbled.

I realized a second too late it was a warning.

 _…hello…_ , his voice split through my thoughts, soft and almost unnoticeable.

Pain erupted in my chest. I flinched like he’d smashed his tusk into me. Clenching my eyes shut, I fought for breath suddenly lost and struggled to keep my hand steady.

“ _It-is-fine_ ,” I growled between agonized gasps. “ _It-is-fine._ ”

He rumbled again. I grit my teeth and braced myself.

_…Hello…Savior…_

It was “louder” this time. I felt dizzyingly nauseous. Doubt overcame me. What was I doing? Why was I letting him do this to me? How could I be so stupid?

He warned me once more, and my panicked thoughts scrambled like birds startling into the air.

_Hello, Savior._

Another rumble.

_I am so sorry. Are you well enough to speak?_

I peered up at him, shaking so much it made it seem like he was jolting all over the place. Still, I gave a shaken nod.

A slight frown had formed on his muzzle, his gentle eyes concerned and guilty. He rumbled again. This time, it rose up in pitch—a question.

For a moment, I could only try to catch my breath. In an effort to stall, I glanced up at the rest of the nest around us.

Literally all of them were deadlocked on me, staring just as intensely as their King. I grimaced.

_Rest assured, you are the only one who can hear me._

I drew my eyes back to the King, somewhat relieved at being not _as_ exposed.

_You are the human Savior?_

My mouth was dry. I licked my lips. “ _Why?_ ” I croaked. “ _Why you need Savior?_ ”

 _Why…_ He repeated, contemplating. Closing his eyes, he heaved a great sigh that sent a gale of frigid air over me. My skin prickled with the cold.

 _We are under great threat, from which only the human Savior can face,_ the King said wearily. _To bring the dragon Savior here is to seal his death._ He recollected himself and set me with that stern gaze again. _I must know, for your sake. Are you human, or are you dragon?_

 _You’re not a dragon anymore_ , Dad had screamed at me as I’d stood there crouched on four paws, my wings splayed open, immersed in conversation with our nestmates.

Even _the King_ couldn’t tell. I stared into his old eyes as my own prickled with frustrated tears.

“I don’t know,” I breathed, the Norse clumsy and unnatural as it rolled off my tongue.

Pity made his jaw go slack, his brows lower, his eyes soften.

He asked permission to speak again. I almost didn’t give it, knowing what he would say next. Still, I nodded.

 _So you_ are _the human Savior. You have suffered greatly under my orders, and I bear the responsibility. The ends justify the means. Still that is no excuse._

He sighed, worn and sorrowful.

_It weighs heavily on my heart to have met you under these circumstances. But I am desperate now, and we have no time left. We need a Savior, but we must also protect the Savior who is vulnerable. You are the ones chosen by the gods, and I will not place one of you directly into your own destruction. That is why my nestmates brought you here, as I know that you and the other Savior would not willingly separate._

He wouldn’t throw Toothless...into his own destruction. A chill went down my spine. “ _No…no understand,_ ” I said _._ “ _What danger? Why happen? Why danger to dragon Savior? Why...why_ me?” As I spoke, I gestured in a “go on” manner.

_Because my nestmates are disappearing._

He seemed to shrink half in size, eyes cast in shadows. _They are being carried off in the wind, without a hint of where they’ve gone. Almost all of our young have vanished. All of them...gone..._

He bowed his great head with a pained moan.

It gave me ample time to absorb his words, to imagine how _terrifying_ it must be to have your young whisked away without any clues of where they’d gone. The thought of it happening on _Berk_ sent a spike a fear plunging through my heart. We hadn’t experienced anything like that, except for…

My eyes widened. I stiffened.

The missing Hum-Wing fledgling. The night these dragons had first attempted to kidnap me. She had flown out to sea to prove how far she could go. She had never returned.

We had thought that she had died. We had stopped looking for her.

The King lifted his head and gave a small, sad sigh. _You have suffered losses as well._

I rolled my shoulders in an uncertain shrug. I didn’t know for sure if this was the same thing. Gods, I didn’t know _anything._ All I knew was that this was serious enough for the King to kidnap a Savior while trying to protect the other...and that Toothless had no idea that this danger even existed.

The King drew me from my thoughts with another request to speak. I motioned him to go.

_I bring you here not to ask you to fight this battle. There are large human nests in this area, and they have grown more violent in the past moons. Many of my nestmates have been hunted by them. I do not expect you to risk your life for us here in these dangerous skies._

_But we desperately need your help. I am too weary to bear yet another loss._

The King began to shift his paws. The water splashed in great waves, nearly washing me away. I was forced to hold onto his tusk to stay on the island.

He closed his eyes. Then he lowered his head, and then he placed one enormous paw straight out in front of him. He flared the frills on his sides out as far as they would go.

I reeled, my mouth half-parted in amazement. The dragons above yelped and murmured.

 _I beg of you, Savior_ , the King pleaded. _May the Dragon of the Sun and Dragoness of the Moon bear witness upon me, that I humbly ask this of you in goodwill._

He bowed his head even more, digging his tusks into the island and water.

_Please reveal to me the secrets of soulfire, so that I may vanquish this threat once and for all._

I sucked in a shaky breath.

A moment passed.

“ _Soulfire?_ ” I finally managed. Fear made my heart pick up again. What was he planning? To use its raw power to blow away his opponents, just like Sphere once had? Just like we had been told _never_ to do?

 _I am aware that soulfire is a godly power_ , the King explained. _It is only gifted by their grace, and carries their wrath with it. Yet abuse of it reflects that wrath upon the user, corrupting them._

_I know this, because I was one of the elders who drove Sphere from the north and into the south._

He took in my flabbergasted expression and gave a hollow chuckle.

_Yes…I saw the destruction that he left in his wake in the days before his demise. I promise you, Savior, that I shall not repeat those monstrous deeds. I will not teach my nestmates this technique so that it may be exposed to abuse._

Even through magic, I could feel the fear shaking his words: _But the source of the song_ must _be found, and it_ must _be obliterated. If we do not act soon, it will take us all._

Again I looked up at this huge nest, so much like a shell from the outside world. Filled with an palpable emptiness that almost pressed down on its occupants. Adults with graying scales. Adults with wide, fearful, hopeful eyes.

Adults that had attacked Berk mercilessly. Now I understood why they had targeted buildings—to drive humans out, so they could swoop on them to find the human Savior. In doing so, they had made the tribes of the archipelago set their sights on Berk, blaming us for it all.

Yet they had had no trouble attacking humans who fought back, because apparently they were being hunted. They had gone in search for the “human” Savior, but even now, they treated me as one of them: an equal. A dragon.

I closed my eyes, my thoughts racing. I just wanted to go _home_. I already had enough of my _own_ problems to deal with.

But if the King was _this_ desperate…what would he do if I said no? What if whatever was scaring him so much went to Berk? What if it targeted _our_ nestmates? Was it better to nip it in the bud here, at the risk of giving this questionable King the magic of the gods? He seemed understanding enough, but he had made it crystal-clear already that he would stop at nothing to defend _his_ nest…just as Toothless and I would for our own.

The King was still sunken into his bow, eyes closed once more—as vulnerable as he could possibly make himself before me.

They really _were_ in trouble. They had gone to enormous lengths to get my help. They _needed_ my help.

It was clear that I was their last hope—one final, last-ditch effort in stopping... _whatever_ was taking their young.

I sighed.

“ _Me understand,”_ I said slowly, making each syllable distinct. “ _But me and Toothless Savior together_ , _and us decide together. Need Toothless._ ” As an afterthought, “… _sorry._ ”

He lifted his eyes to mine, and they were unsurprised and grieved.

 _Savior_ , _to bring him here means he could easily share the same fate as our young_ , the King reminded me. _Both of you are young adults, and thus he is susceptible to it. That is why my nestmates brought you here so quickly, to avoid his following them._

“ _Us go_ together _or us no go_ ,” I said with a shake of my head.

The King allowed a small, worn smile onto his lips.

_Would you have truly parted ways? After receiving this explanation, would you have accepted that you must leave and he must stay?_

I opened my mouth to say a rebuttal, only to stop with a grimace. The King’s eyes glinted knowingly.

 _It is difficult_ , he sighed. _And it is wrong to have separate you so. But it was the only way to guarantee that the both of you remain safe, and to make this request as quickly as possible. There is simply no time for lengthy debates or back-and-forth scouting missions._

_I merely wish to learn soul-magic from you and part ways. With such power, disposing of the source shall be simple, and my nestmates may live without fear once again. I beg of you once more, Savior: please pass this knowledge on to me._

I looked him in the eyes. “ _No._ ”

His nestmates gasped at my blatant refusal. He grimaced and hung his head, looking so defeated that I would have thought his entire nest had already been stolen from him.

I crouched lower, too, feeling more than a little guilty now. I _wanted_ to help them, I really did.

Toothless and Berk came first. Dad came first.

And soulfire was not something that I alone should be able to gift to another dragon, not even an ancient King. As frightening as this was, as desperate as this nest fought, Toothless and I were Saviors and Kings _together._

“ _Sorry_ ,” I said earnestly. “ _But me need Toothless. Us decide together._ ”

 _No, Savior_ , the King said, resolved.

He drew up from his bow, blotting out the light above him. His eyes seemed to glow in the sudden darkness, a swift reminder of how outpowered I was here even with my title. He made sure to keep his tusks low enough to be in my reach.

 _I must apologize again_ , he said. _It was foolish of me to expect your aid, however little choices I have left to protect my nestmates. I have wounded you in more ways than one, and yet you look to me with forgiveness and empathy in your eyes. You are far better a King than I._

He bowed again.

_I pray to the Dragon of the Sun and the Dragoness of the Moon that the song does not reach your nest. You may depart whenever you please._

Hope reignited in my heart like dry bramble catching an ember. “ _Now!_ ” I said, barely keeping myself still and dignified-looking.

The King sighed. _That is for the best, yes. My Four-Wing will lead an escort._

He glanced up at his nestmates and spoke to them normally. The nest filled with despairing, confused whimpers and cries.

The four-winged dragon swooped down to the island. He winced under my gaze, embarrassed, and bowed low to me with a deep apology. He threw his head towards his shoulder.

I glanced one more time at the old King.

 _Take care, Savior_ , he almost moaned. _Keep watch for hunting humans in the south. I have seen many travelling that direction, and my Color-Shifter informed me that he saw many on your journey here. I will wait for you and the dragon Savior to make your decision._

He sounded so vulnerable and afraid—and he was so shameless about it that it gave me second thoughts. The last thing he wanted was for me to leave without helping...and here he was, letting it happen anyways.

He was a lot like the Queen. But he was a lot _unlike_ her, too, and in the ways that mattered.

“We’ll come back,” I promised. “I’ll explain everything to Toothless, and…”

I stopped myself then before I offered something that I might regret.

As weak as my comforts were, the King nearly drooped with relief. His eyes filled with warmth, and a real smile graced his lips. _Thank you, Savior._

His voice grew urgent now, _Please make haste. The song grows stronger by the day. We have very little time. I beg of you, Savior._

_If we wait any longer, there will be no dragon left to save._

I grimaced, nodded one last time, and drew my paw away. The presence just at the edge of my shell of magic dissipated like fog in the morning sun.

The Four-Wing allowed me to climb onto his shoulders. He bowed to the King, and the King bowed one last time to me.

Without so much as a warning, the Four-Wing crouched and launched straight up towards the small gap in the ice spines that led outside. Just behind him, the three dragons whom had first attempted to kidnap me joined him: the Two-Walker, Flame-Skin, and…Color-Shifter.

We shot into the sky. The King began to hum again.

I glanced over my shoulder back at the nest, filled with doubt. It almost felt wrong to refuse to help, to leave them to their fates. Even though _they_ had been the ones to drag me into this, I felt like I was making a mistake. Like I was responsible.

I needed Toothless here. He would have known what to do, what to say. Now I was finding it hard to stay calm, to keep my frantic thoughts from imagining every possible scenario that could happen.

Even if I had promised to come back, had I just sealed their fate?

As if in answer, the dragons below began to wail with terror.

The sound did not soon leave me.

**o.O.o**

Astrid

“Astrid, shut yer dragon up already!”

“I’m _trying_ , Mom!” I snapped.

Mom slammed the door shut. I sighed, turning to Stormfly.

She made no acknowledgment of me, staring off into space with blank eyes. She was making a sound I’d never heard before. It was almost pretty, thrumming and melodic, kind-of like birdsong.

It was also really creepy.

“Stormfly!” I leapt up and down in front of her, waving my arms around. “Wanna play fetch? Here ya go, girl! Go get it! Go get it!”

My axe clattered to the ground. Stormfly didn’t even look at it.

I went to retrieve it myself. The roads were all cleaned up now, and many houses were already being rebuilt. The Chief had put everyone hard at work, including me.

I was officially on “watch Toothless” duty. Apparently, he had almost walked off a cliff. The Chief seemed to think that I was the closest person to him on Berk right now, which meant that I was the lucky Viking who got to chase the skittish Night Fury around. Normally I would have been filled with pride at getting a “special” job that he trusted me enough to ask _me_ to do it. Except…

I couldn’t exactly follow Toothless when it took him two seconds to jump up on a roof, send me a sneer, and leap out of sight. I had _hoped_ Stormfly could help out.

She only paused in her thrumming to breathe. She had plopped down where she’d stood yesterday and hadn’t moved since. For the entire night she had made noise, disturbing the sleep of everyone in the area. I’d assumed it was just Stormfly being Stormfly until I had woken up this morning and she was _still_ doing it.

“Gods, Hiccup, where are you…” I mumbled to myself, hooking my axe back into my belt. Approaching Stormfly, I held a hand just in front of her.

Normally she would have thrust her nose into my hand, demanding to be petted.

Her eyes remained unfocused. I patted her anyways.

“Come _on_ , girl,” I pleaded. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

Even though I was sure it wouldn’t work, I continued to try to get her attention. Offers of pets and treats went unnoticed, and waving objects in her line of sight was just as unsuccessful. Nothing I was doing was working.

I turned my eyes upwards. There were no dragons in sight.

I needed to get help.

With a defeated sigh, I took a step back.

“Stay here, Stormfly,” I said. At least for this one, I knew she would listen.

I turned and ran.

**o.O.o**

I had almost made it to Fishleg’s house.

Almost.

“Astrid! Hey, Astrid!”

“Not now, Snotlout!” I said, but stopped anyways. My legs were killing me—not that I was about to let it show.

Snotlout was dragging Hookfang behind him, both of his arms around the Nightmare’s muzzle. Hookfang was whining, claws digging into the ground, but still let himself get pulled along. Snotlout had such a tight hold on him that he didn’t seem able to open his jaw. He shook his head every couple of seconds.

“Fancy meeting you here! You’re going to see Fishlegs too, huh?” Snotlout said. He grunted when Hookfang shook him enough to lift him off the ground.

“Jeez, Snotlout, what’re you doing?!” I reprimanded him. “It’s not like Hookfang’s gonna fly off.”

“Yes he is!” Snotlout yelled, eyes wide. “Yesterday he totally tried to ditch me! I had to lock him in my house just to get him to stay!”

I opened my mouth and stopped.

“You…locked a Monstrous Nightmare…inside your house.”

“Yup!” Snotlout said like it was no big deal. “Luckily, he figured out I wasn’t gonna let him go so easy. But I’m not keepin’ my eyes off him! He’s gotta learn that we stick together to the _death!_ ”

He struck a dramatic pose, throwing his fists to the sky. Hookfang leaned back, working his jaw, and then huffed when Snotlout latched onto him again.

I rolled my eyes and met the poor thing’s eyes. He seemed like his normal, meek self…and with the patience of the gods.

“I think you can let go of him,” I said. “Stormfly was the same way yesterday, but she’s still… _weird._ ”

Snotlout’s expression fell. His arms went slack, and Hookfang slid away from him, licked his paw, and began rubbing it over his face.

“Weird?” Snotlout repeated. “Like, ‘making a lot of annoying noise’ weird?”

I nodded. “How’d you get Hookfang out of it?”

“With my natural charm and leadership skills, of course,” Snotlout said with bravado. I didn’t react to it, and he cut it out. “Well, actually, he kinda just…snapped out of it after awhile. I was holding him down, so I guess he got tired of it?” He reached out to the spot Hookfang’s head used to be and did a double-take when he grabbed empty air. “Hookfang, get down here! I’m not letting you go until Fishlegs figures out what your deal is!”

“Actually, if you _really_ want to ask me, I’d say he looks fine.”

We both spun around. Fishlegs raised an eyebrow at Snotlout, an expression perfectly mirrored by Meatlug at his side. Hookfang trotted over to her and bobbed his head, and she purred and gave him a lick on the forehead.

“Not that I’m not flattered you want my help, but…why?” He asked. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be rebuilding?”

“Yeah.” Snotlout shrugged. “Aren’t _you_?”

Fishlegs cringed. “I’m just taking a little break to get Meatlug her favorite snack. We were heading right back, I swear!”

“Well, before you do that, I need your help,” I said. “Stormfly’s been off since yesterday, and I was hoping you’d know something about it. Or Meatlug.”

“Uh…” Fishlegs tapped his fingers together. He looked at Meatlug, and she growled and shook her head. “I’m not sure…how much of a help we can be.”

“Ugh, where is Hiccup when you need him!” Snotlout groaned.

“Carried off,” I sighed. “Come on. If we’re gonna ignore our jobs, let’s at least do something so we have a good excuse.”

We began to make our way to my house. The sun was still rising and the air was clear, filled with the hammering and shouting of reconstruction. Many of the houses we passed were already well on their way to being finished.

There was a noticeable absence of dragons. I knew that Toothless had been sending out search party after search party, but this…this was playing with fire. We were down at least half of our forces, especially after a good number of them had flown off yesterday.

“Hey, what’s your job, anyways?” Fishlegs asked as we walked. “I didn’t see you at all today.”

Snotlout sent me a crooked grin. “Maybe you could say she’s…” He latched onto Hookfang’s head again. “ _Playing Hookie?_ ”

Meatlug groaned.

“Eh? Eh?” Snotlout said. Hookfang wriggled out of his grasp and hid behind Meatlug. “Y’know, ‘cause his name is—”

“Yes, Snotlout, we get it,” Fishlegs said.

I huffed. “I’m _supposed_ to be watching Toothless.”

Fishlegs and Snotlout burst out laughing and Meatlug reared her head back. Hookfang watched some birds fly overhead and snapped at them.

It took them a second to realize I wasn’t joking.

“Sucks to be you, Astrid!” Snotlout snickered. He tried to offer me a good-hearted punch on the shoulder, but I caught it in my palm.

“Not really. It’s Hiccup we should be worried about.” I frowned and added, “And Toothless.”

That sucked the humor right out of them. They both grimaced.

“Yeah, Uncle Stoick’s getting real worked up over that,” Snotlout admitted. “But Hiccup’s gotta be back soon, right? I mean, he’s _Hiccup!_ ” He threw his hands in the air. “And he can talk to dragons and stuff!”

“I just hope he’s okay,” Fishlegs said. “I don’t know what we’d do without him. Especially if those ones from last night come back _._ Even Meatlug doesn’t get what was up with them.”

Meatlug bared her teeth in a snarl.

“Well, _I’m_ more worried about the Bog Burglars,” Snotlout groused, pounding a fist in his hand.

I nodded, glancing up and the down the surrounding streets—and stopped in my tracks. “Is that…?”

For a moment, I was just confused. I did a double-take and blinked rapidly, half-wondering if I was hallucinating from all the stress.

“Hey!” I shouted.

Bergthora, my old bread-making mentor, spun around. She sent us a bright grin. “Good mornin’, Astrid!” she shouted all the way down the street.

I sent a look at an equally-confused Snotlout and Fishlegs. All of us broke off into a run. We stopped just outside her shop, which had been partially-destroyed by all of the fires and still had part of its roof caved in.

“How’s yer families?” Bergthora asked warmly.

“Who cares about that!” Snotlout shouted. “What’re you doing with a Monstrous Nightmare?!”

Bergthora was standing right next to a huge, yellow Nightmare, patting its head. The dragon was curled up around her like a giant cat, eyes closed and purring.

“Oh, Rye here?” Bergthora asked. “Dogsbreath gave ‘em to me. Said I had to have ‘em ta help protect my shop.” She pulled some salted meat from her pocket and threw it at the Nightmare. He sniffed for a second, snapped his eyes open, and gobbled it up like he was starving.

Hookfang whined, butted Snotlout’s back, and looked pointedly at the pocket Bergthora had gotten the food from. Meatlug grunted at him, and he lowered his head and eyes.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Fishlegs rushed. “You said Dogsbreath _gave_ him to you?”

“Sure did!” Bergthora boomed. “A good man, he is. A bit rough ‘round the edges, but we can’t _all_ be perfect. Normally I’d’ve given ‘em a wallopin’ fer bossin’ me around, but I didn’t mind so much this time. If his tiny Terror can protect his little ones, then I’m more than happy ta work with a Nightmare if that means _my_ children will be safe.”

“And where is Dogsbreath right now? When did this happen?” I demanded.

“’bout an hour ago, just in the clearing of Town Square,” Bergthora hummed, throwing another treat to her Nightmare and some to Hookfang and Meatlug as well. Meatlug took a delicate nip out of it, while Hookfang essentially took a bite out of the ground. He bounced on his feet and whined, begging for more.

I almost groaned. Suddenly Dogsbreath’s questions yesterday made a _lot_ more sense. “Alright, thanks. Guys, let’s…”

I hesitated.

Stormfly still needed help. I hated abandoning her like I already had, leaving her to sit alone in the middle of the street. What if she was gone when I came back? How would I find her?

I wasn’t about to let Dogsbreath “give away” dragons all on his own, though.

I deflated, gritting my teeth.

“Let’s go, guys.”

**o.O.o**

Finding Dogsbreath wasn’t too hard, considering how loud he was.

“Who’s next?” He hollered, his voice echoing off the buildings.

There was an awkward silence.

“Well, don’t make me pick someone!” He shouted. “This is the best way to make sure the dragons stay and protect us!”

I reached the large-ish crowd and shoved my way through.

Dogsbreath stood tall and proud, Noodles perched on his helmet and all puffed up. At his side was a basket of provisions from the last fishing trip.

He threw a finger at a middle-aged man close to him. “You! Your turn!”

“U-uh—” the man stuttered, holding his palms up.

“Noodles, get ‘em,” Dogsbreath grunted.

With a squeak, Noodles plopped to the ground and scampered to the “chosen one”. Even though the man’s foot was bigger than him, he snagged the hem of his pants and pulled with all his might, flapping his one wing in an orange blur.

“See how obedient he is?” Dogsbreath bragged, crossing his arms with a smug grin. “My dragon will stop at nothin’ fer my family!”

The poor villager crumbled under the peer pressure, stepping forward with wide, anxious eyes.

So did I.

“Dogsbreath, what’re you doing?” I said. Snotlout, Fishlegs, and their dragons forced their way to my side.

He let out a huge huff. “Well, _someone_ has ta do this.” He turned to the villager and gave him a hard pat on the back. “There ya go. Now then…”

He pursed his lips, reached inside the basket, and pulled out a fish. Then he held it up.

A bunch of really confused dragons stared back, their heads cocked sideways.

Hookfang crept forward, sniffing at the fish, and Dogsbreath waved him off.

“Bah! Not you,” he grunted. He raised the fish even higher and shouted, “Come on down now! I’ve got food fer ya!”

The dragons all looked at each other, chirping and squawking. On the ground, Hookfang was slumping with disappointment and Meatlug was doing a very good job at pulling off Toothless’ “unimpressed” look.

Meatlug snorted and growled. Noodles squeaked at her, doing everything he could to look bigger. She lifted a brow.

“How long have you been doing this?” I asked. “I seriously doubt that they’ll come down _just_ for—oh, one came down.”

A white Nadder with brilliant orange stripes had taken the bait, descending with a few short flaps and landing next to Meatlug and Hookfang. They all bobbed their heads at each other—Meatlug and Hookfang deeper than the Nadder—and focused on the fish.

“You were sayin’?” Dogsbreath said smugly.

I narrowed my eyes. “Dogsbreath, I really think you should leave this to Hiccup and Toothless.”

“Well, they ain’t here!” He said. To the villager, he raised his voice, “Now, you! What’s yer name?”

“T-Thuggory, but I don’t need a dragon—”

“Yes ya do!” Dogsbreath snapped. “Do ya want _more_ of ‘em ta leave?”

Thuggory cringed and shrugged.

“I’ll answer that for ya: ya don’t! We got too many enemies ta let ‘em go! Now go give this one a reason ta stay!”

He threw the fish in Thuggory’s hands and shoved him at the Nadder.

“They’re not _guard dogs_ ,” I exclaimed. “You’re doing this all wrong!”

Thuggory hesitated until Dogsbreath gave him another whack on the back. He tiptoed closer to the Nadder, which was shooting looks at Meatlug and Hookfang.

“U-uh, nice Nadder. _Pretty_ Nadder,” Thuggory stammered. He held the cod out with shaking hands. “Here ya go, take the fish.”

Hookfang lunged for it.

Thuggory squealed and backpedaled, hitting the ground hard. The Nadder flinched, and Meatlug sent a flat look at Hookfang.

“Hookfang!” Snotlout scolded. He put his hands on his hips and glared at his dragon, who crouched low and backed up behind Meatlug. “What’s your problem? You could’ve gotten hurt, and then _I_ would have had to deal with all your whining!”

“Get that one out of here!” Dogsbreath snapped, throwing his arm through the air.

I groaned, putting my head in my hand. How many villagers had Dogsbreath “bonded” to a dragon like this? Giving them the idea that by feeding them, the dragon would go out of its way to protect them? He had the right idea, but this was a recipe for disaster. Expectations would be high, and if the dragons _didn’t_ exclusively protect the villagers, then they’d be given up on.

“Dogsbreath, this _isn’t_ the right way to do this,” I said, squaring my shoulders and looking him in the eye. “You can’t force it.”

“Yeah,” Fishlegs said. “Hiccup already told you, it’s more of a mutual friendship than a deal. Both parties have to choose each other.”

Dogsbreath glanced behind me and he grinned. “Well, this is good enough fer me,” he said, pointing.

The Nadder had grabbed Thuggory by his arm and was pulling him to his feet. It nosed his hands, sniffing, and then twisted its neck towards the basket.

“Now make it like you!” Dogsbreath encouraged, throwing another fish at Thuggory.

Thuggory was so shaken he caught the fish and instantly dropped it. The Nadder watched it splat to the ground and then blinked at him.

“Uh, that’s fer you,” Thuggory said, pointing.

Tilting its head, the Nadder sniffed at Thuggory some more and stooped. It swallowed the fish—and immediately began dry-heaving.

Thuggory had only taken a few steps backwards when the Nadder regurgitated half of the fish right into his hands. Then it chirped, opened its wings, and flew away.

“W- _what?_ ” Thuggory exclaimed, dropping the fish with disgust.

“Yeah, yeah, get used to that,” Dogsbreath said. He raised his voice and pointed. “Now after it! And bring it that fish!”

“Y-yes, sir!” Thuggory gasped. He picked up the fish and sprinted away in the direction the Nadder had flown.

I raised a brow at Dogsbreath. He smirked right back.

“Well, this is going to work out _wonderfully_ ,” Fishlegs groaned.

Dogsbreath’s eyes flicked behind us and he did a double-take. His confident grin gave way to a stern, almost blank expression. The crowd around us grew very silent.

I whipped around to see the Chief parting the crowd, Toothless at his side.

The Chief looked justifiably suspicious. Toothless was exhausted, his head low and wings and tail dragging on the ground.

“Can someone please explain to me why none of you are working?” The Chief demanded to all of the guilty bystanders. “And why I just saw Thuggory chase a Nadder down the street with a half-eaten fish?”

“I’m gettin’ people ta work with dragons,” Dogsbreath said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fer extra protection.”

Toothless took this in and straightened up with visible effort. He sent a sharp snort at Noodles. The Terror pressed close to Dogsbreath, whining. After a few seconds of it, Toothless’ eyes widened, and he dropped his head with a moan.

The Chief glanced at me. I shook my head.

“All of you, back to work!” He commanded.

The crowd scattered, leaving us standing alone with Dogsbreath.

Dogsbreath and the Chief stared into each other, each none too happy to see the other.

“This is something better-suited for my son,” the Chief eventually said.

“Yer son’s been carried off, Chief,” Dogsbreath returned in a calm, somber tone. “Nobody has ever returned from that.”

Toothless lifted himself up, showed his teeth, and gave a breathy hiss.

The Chief clenched his fists and leaned in close. “Get back to work,” he said, his voice steady and low.

Dogsbreath sighed, but did what he was told. “Very well,” he grumbled, locking the basket and shouldering it. “Let’s be off then, Noodles.”

Noodles bowed at Toothless, squeaking. Without another word, the odd duo departed.

The Chief waited for them to get out of earshot and then got right to business. He turned to me and the others. “The same goes for you three. Snotlout, Fishlegs, go help with repairs. We need to get everyone out of Town Hall as fast as we can before disease starts spreading.”

“Yes, Chief!” My friends said, eager to escape before they got punished. They scrambled away, their dragons on their heels.

With everyone gone, the Chief settled me a stern look. I cringed, knowing that I looked like I was slacking just as much as everyone else.

“I appreciate you keeping a handle on things, Astrid, but you have a job as well,” the Chief said. “Leave that to me.”

“Y-yes, Chief,” I said. I glanced at Toothless. His expression was difficult, if not impossible to read. “Have you heard any news?”

Toothless drooped, twisting his neck to look north. The Chief shook his head with a sigh.

“No,” he said sullenly. “The search parties have not returned. Toothless thinks it a bad idea to chase after them with ships, but…”

We looked at Toothless. His head was low and his ears flattened.

“I’ll give ‘em a few more hours,” the Chief said. “Then we take matters into our own hands. I’ll be preparing the ships at the docks. In the meantime, _you two_ keep watch out for anything.”

He said this pointedly. What he _really_ meant was: _Astrid, do your job and keep an eye on Toothless like I told you to._

“Yes, Chief,” I said, trying not to look as nervous as I felt.

An idea came to mind and I straightened out, suddenly hopeful. “And Toothless, I actually really need your help with something. It’s Stormfly.”

He snapped his head up, eyes wide. I had a feeling he already knew what I was going to say, but I spoke anyways.

“There’s something wrong with her.”

**o.O.o**

Stormfly was still making noise in the same exact spot as I’d left her. I didn’t know if that was good or bad.

Toothless hissed, pinning his ears and leaning away. He shook his head and took a step backwards.

“She started doing this when those dragons showed up last night,” I said. I put a hand on her nose and sighed when she didn’t respond. “Snotlout said the same thing happened to Hookfang, but he snapped out of it after awhile.”

Toothless was shaking his head every couple of seconds, his back arched and wings fluttering. He lashed his tail and sent a sharp hiss at Stormfly.

No response.

“Do you know what it is?” I almost begged Toothless. “Can you make her stop?”

“ _Please_ make her stop,” a villager down the street shouted. I glared at him and turned to Toothless.

He seemed to have frozen in place, his wide eyes locked on Stormfly.

I swallowed as my heart picked up the pace. Was it _that_ bad?

“Toothless?” I asked, slipping away from Stormfly and towards him. “What—what’s wrong with her?! You’re freaking me out here!”

I put a hand on his forehead, just as I had yesterday when he’d been like this.

He jolted to attention and shook his head, baring his teeth.

I backed away to give him some space, putting my hand back on Stormfly again. “Alright, so…you’re just as confused about it as I am.”

His eyes met mine, filled with confusion and turmoil. After a second, he nodded.

I faced Stormfly, stepping directly in front of her. “Come on, girl,” I whispered. “Aren’t you getting tired of this?”

I tried to recollect everything Snotlout had told me. I seriously doubted that I needed to throw Stormfly in my house for her to get better. But that was the only difference between him and me.

I sighed, grabbing onto Stormfly’s cheekbones with both of my hands.

Stormfly did nothing.

“I guess…let’s get you inside, then,” I mumbled. “It’s the only lead we’ve got.”

Still I didn’t move—I knew that dragging her inside _wasn’t_ the answer, and that it would only complicate things. Snotlout had done something without realizing it, I just knew it.

Was this…permanent?

I tightened my grip, squaring up. No, I knew from Snotlout that it was temporary. I just had to figure out what he did.

There was a short bark next to me. I jumped, stepping away.

Toothless had ghosted his way to my side. He still took the time to give me a look before he turned to my dragon, his ears pressed as tight against his skull as he could get. He growled at her, loud and distinct. He even reared up on his shaking hind legs, giving her a short bat on the nose before he fell back down.

Stormfly _loved_ to play. She should have been ecstatic. Instead she stared straight forward.

“Oh, Stormfly,” I whisper, reaching out and grabbing onto her again. I hugged her to my chest and rested my forehead against hers. “Please snap out of it.”

Closing my eyes, I let the moment drag out, wracking my brain for what to do based on what I knew.

The absence of sound was the first thing I noticed.

I jolted upright. “Stormfly?!”

She still had that distant look in her eyes—but she had stopped making that horrible sound, which was better than nothing.

Toothless threw his head in a “go on” motion and turned to Stormfly, speaking to her.

I ran a hand over her forehead. “Stormfly? C’mon, girl, snap outta it.”

For several seconds, she did nothing but blink.

Then she leapt to her feet with a loud screech, spinning in a tight circle.

“Woah!” I yelped, ducking just as her tail swung around. “Stormfly! Calm down!”

Stormfly flapped her wings, tail barbs poised and eyes wild.

Toothless leapt in front of me, reared up with open wings, and roared.

The sudden silence made my ears ring. I peeked around Toothless.

Stormfly had flinched away, crouching against the dirt with her head lowered. She shook her head, clucking, and scratched at it with her hind paw.

Her eyes caught mine. She froze mid-scratch.

With a shriek, Stormfly charged, wings flapping. She bowled me over, teeth flashing in the sunlight, and flattened me against the ground with her talons—

—and began licking me.

“Ah! _Stormfly!_ ” I wheezed, trying to bat her off. “ _Gross!_ Down, girl!”

Toothless pawed her away, allowing me room to sit up. He began to rumble, but Stormfly interrupted him with several squawks and whistles, bouncing in place.

With a snort, I began to laugh. Stormfly wriggled with excitement and charged me again, throwing her head into my arms.

“Good girl!” I cried, petting her in all her favorite spots. “Oh, good girl, Stormfly! You did it! Yes, you did!”

Toothless rolled his eyes at the baby-talk, but that didn’t stop me. I hugged Stormfly close and repeated myself over and over, like if I stopped then she would turn back into _whatever_ that was again. Stormfly was all for the attention she was getting, chirping excitedly and barely keeping herself still. She stepped on me a few times, but I didn’t care—I’d take that a thousand times if it meant that she was okay.

“Don’t you _ever_ do that again,” I said, clutching her close. “You hear me, Stormfly?”

She purred, settling down next to me. With a happy chirp, she swung her tail around Toothless and literally dragged him closer to us. He pulled away with a grunt, and Stormfly began to whine at him.

“Sorry,” I snickered, patting Stormfly to get her to stop asking him to cuddle. “But, really…thank you, Toothless. I really needed your help to snap her out of it.”

He shrugged, looking away with half-lidded eyes and limp wings.

I frowned.

“I know it’s hard,” I said, reaching a hand out to him. “And I know it doesn’t help seeing a…’reunion’ like this. But I know everything’s going to be okay, Toothless.”

He stared, unreadable.

Then he pressed his nose to my hand and twisted away, staring off in the distance like it never happened.

I dropped my hand and said, “You need a break. When was the last time you slept? _Before_ the raid?”

No response. That meant “yes”.

I sent him an admonishing look, one he very quickly leered at. “You need to take care of yourself, too, Toothless,” I said. “What if those dragons come back? How much help are you gonna be if you’re dead on your feet, huh?”

He snorted, throwing his head.

“C’mon,” I said, patting the ground next to Stormfly and me. “Just rest a little, and you’ll feel much better when you wake up.”

Toothless hesitated and shook his head, turning back towards the way we’d come.

“Toothless. Sleep. Now.” I shrugged, leaning as casually as I could against Stormfly. “Or I’ll just go tell the _Chief_ that you’re acting weird—which you are, by the way—and that I really, really think _he_ should keep an eye on you. Y’know, to make sure you stay safe.”

Toothless halted and studied me, searching for a bluff. I did everything I could to keep a straight face.

With an over-exaggerated groan, Toothless returned to our spot and thumped to the ground. Stormfly chattered excitedly, cuddling up right next to him and curling her tail around him. He huffed grumpily and tried to look uninterested, staring north.

He couldn’t hide how he pressed closer to Stormfly, though. Or the slight purr he allowed to rise from his chest. He’d been stretched far too thin in these past two days.

“There you go,” I whispered. I reached out to give him some much-needed comfort.

He was already asleep.

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

We were far from the King’s half-empty, shell-like nest.

We were flying at such speeds that the ocean turned to smooth silk below us. The Four-Wing was rushing the escort, flying at full speed without rest. It was all I could do to hang on for dear life.

The King had been serious when he’d asked us to “make haste”; we were going _pretty_ dang fast.

So fast that we had no reaction time.

The Color-Shifter screeched.

A blast of frigid air thundered into us from below, followed by a gale of fog. It rushed past us like an explosion, obscuring everything from sight before I could even cry out in alarm.

The Four-Wing shrieked and flailed his wings, sending us careening back and forth. With precious seconds to spare, he twisted so that his back was to the tailwind. We blasted through the sudden, dense fog, barely able to breath from the sheer rush of it.

It took almost a full minute to stop, the gale was so powerful. When we finally slowed down to a less-lethal pace, the Four-Wing cried out for his nestmates. Their voices echoed around us, filled with fear and confusion.

“ _W-what?!_ ” I hissed, whipping my head around and shivering. The temperature had plummeted and my hands were already going numb.

The Four-Wing shouted into the mass of gray, swung his tail down, and threw us upwards. I struggled to hold on as the water condensed on his scales and made them slippery.

We flew higher and higher. The air thinned.

I was starting to feel lightheaded when the world suddenly burst with light. We spiraled up into the clear air and kept going. A second passed, and then another, and another...

When the Four-Wing finally leveled out, the two of us let out horrified, amazed gasps.

The sudden cloud cover was easily the size of a few islands. It stretched out like a thundercloud in all directions, a huge swath over the ocean. Cold air was coming off of it. It had all but materialized from the ocean below, and had spread faster than even a Shadow-Blender could fly.

Even up here, I could just barely make out…something. It was vibrating in my chest and ears, just noticeable enough to bother me. I shook my head.

The Four-Wing roared to his nestmates. If they responded, their voices were muffled in the fog.

He glanced over his shoulder, asking me an apprehensive question and nodding back down towards the fog.

I shook my head. The _last_ thing we needed to do was go back down there to... _whatever_ that was. “ _Like this_ ,” I said. Clenching my fist, I held it up and moved my other hand just over it in a straight line.

He gave the same military-like chirp of understanding his nestmates gave their King. I clamped onto him, and he dove. Just before going back in, he pulled up and skimmed just over the cloud. Again he cried out, and I joined in with him, shouting into the mists.

His nestmates’ voices were all over the place—they seemed to be coming from multiple directions, sometimes shifting in position so rapidly that it was startling.

The vibration grew louder to the point that I could hear it…kind of. It was an enormous sound, something that grinded against my eardrums and made me clench my teeth. The Four-Wing noticed it as well, growling at it with rising anxiety.

I tightened my grip on the Four-Wing as fear and anxiety began to blend into panic. _Something_ was going on here, and every inch of me was screaming to get away.

Light fluttered through the fog up ahead. The Four-Wing banked perpendicular to it, careful not to fly directly over it.

The fog swelled with a second explosion. A dragon screeched.

The Flame-Skin burst into the clear air hundreds of feet ahead, spotted us, and thrust his wings open to slow down. He leveled out just next to us and gave a relieved greeting.

The Four-Wing growled and spat a whirlwind of fire in front of us, cutting down through the fog. With a quick command, he reared up and flared all four of his wings, pumping them as hard as he could to create a pocket of safety below. The Flame-Skin did the same.

Both of them were shaking their heads and flying unsteadily. I myself was feeling a little woozy.

A black blur burst from one end, sped through the pocket, and went straight back in. A second later, and the black Two-Walker dipped out from the fog and scrambled over to us, relieved. All that was left was the Color-Shifter.

Everyone was snarling in terror and anger. I shivered from the cold, glancing back and forth in desperate search of _anything_ that could hint at what was happening or where the Color-Shifter was.

A dragon raced through the pocket.

A dull, brown one.

A hush fell over us.

With a soft click, the Four-Wing ducked away from the pocket and back out over the fog, out of sight. The black Two-Walker hissed a question, and the Flame-Skin shushed her.

The impossible fog had already reached out to the horizon. If the Color-Shifter had lost his way down there…

I bared my teeth. The fog, the stillness, the fearful silence…

It was just like the ocean outside the Queen’s nest.

My head seemed to be filling with buzzing insects. The Four-Wing was suffering the same, shaking his head. One half of his body leaned back down into the fog, and with a start, he righted himself.

We flew in timid silence, the only sound being the air rushing past and the vibrations below. Every now and then, the deathly quiet was broken by the muffled cry of a dragon—but now we didn’t know for sure if it was the Color-Shifter. Not now, when we knew that we weren’t alone.

The Four-Wing took us further and further south. The fog stretched on endlessly, surreally, impossibly.

Through the corner of my eye, I spotted a darker spot—an edge. It was southeast rather than straight south.

Clicking my tongue, I pointed towards it.

The Four-Wing swooped around, banking so sharply that I was nearly thrown off. We were ahead of the edge, and so had to double-back _into_ the fog to get to it. It didn’t matter, though; the end was in sight. My skin was crawling with the sensation of being watched, of closeness to the Queen, and I needed _out_.

I could only hope that the Color-Shifter had seen the edge, too. Even as we neared it, movement flickered around it. There were a few bursts of fire.

We got close enough to hear battle cries.

I stiffened, straightening up and craning my neck to see as best as I could. The Four-Wing clucked and started to take us away, and I gave a desperate shriek, “ _No!_ ”

He asked a baffled question, but I was too focused on the voices.

On the accents.

“ _HELLO!_ ” I screamed for all I was worth, giving up our secrecy altogether. “ _ME HERE!_ _HICCUP HERE!”_

There was a pause. My heart lifted with joy. They’d heard me— _they’d heard me!_

“ _ME_ _HERE!_ ” I shrieked. “ _ME—_ ”

The air ripped apart.

To describe it as a sound would be like describing the ocean as a drop of water. It rattled every one of my bones, shaking me down to my very core. It sent spots swarming across my vision as it tore at my ears, banging against them with the force of a hammer. I clenched my eyes shut and threw my paws over my ears, but it made no difference. It was godly in size, so powerful that I could _feel_ the vibrations pounding through the air around us.

The Four-Wing tipped unsteadily from side to side, shaking his head violently.

My stomach lurched. Fear pulsed through my veins.

The Four-Wing lost his balance and spiraled out of control. I fell into the fog.

_Oh, gods! Oh, Dragon of the Sun!_

I let myself fall a second to figure out which way was up—and then threw my wings open and flipped over. I squinted against the freezing fog, struggling to breathe and gasping.

The world-consuming roar faded. The vibrations returned, louder this time.

“ _Me here_ ,” I tried to shout, but I couldn’t hear my own voice. My ears were ringing so loudly that they drowned out all other sound.

I hung there in that fog, almost floating, the only indication I was moving being the air skirting past me.

With frantic breaths, I whipped my head back and forth for any sign of the escort. I couldn’t see them—I couldn’t see _anything._ I could barely see the tips of my fingers in this dense fog. Lower and lower I glided. We had been so high up that I wasn’t worried about crashing into the ocean—yet.

The vibrations were all that was left. I couldn’t hear it anymore, but I could feel it, dancing at the edge of my awareness.

I turned my full attention on it.

It…it wasn’t magic. Stalking around my empty shell proved nothing new. It was definitely a _sound_ —a loud one at that, and something far away judging by how dim it felt.

Focusing more on what I _could_ perceive of it, my head began to spin. It suddenly seemed to swarm my awareness. It was…it was almost…

...familiar.

The dull fog suddenly dissipated. The ocean burst out in front of me, a vibrant blue that nearly blinded me, leaving me squinting  until my eyes readjusted to the bright reflection.

I got my bearings and almost dropped out of the sky. A sudden jolt of understanding came over me at _why_ we had heard and seen fighting.

There were ships.

They had all turned away from the mass of fog reaching up to the heavens, but I had lost a lot of altitude. I was low enough to have been able to pull my wings and land somewhat safely.

They saw me at the same time I saw them. They scrambled around the decks.

I swayed midair, trapped, and cried out uselessly for the dragons. If I couldn’t even hear myself, I knew there was no chance they’d be able to hear me.

A blur rushed towards me. On instinct, I tucked my wings in and fell.

The net went right over me. I snapped my wings open and threw a paw down, banking out of the way of a second.

“ _STOP!_ ” I shouted in Norse below. I had no clue if it was loud enough to be heard.

Another net—I clutched my wings in again.

They predicted that this time. The second net smacked into me just below the first. I was dragged down, down!

White-hot fear overwhelmed me. I clawed at the bindings as the ocean rushed up to meet me, a slick surface that promised to tear me apart on impact. A terrified shriek that I couldn’t hear ripped from my throat. My vision went white with the reflections off the waters.

“ _No!_ ” I howled, but to who, I didn’t know.

I was going to die. I was going to die and Toothless would never know. He would never find me, he would always despair over not knowing what happened, he would blame himself every second of every day, he would be _alone_ —

The net lurched to a halt. My breath left me in a whoosh and my head lurched. Sparks swam across my vision, and it took several seconds for me to blink them away and look up.

The elder Hum-Wing bared her teeth and roared.  She was squinting, her ears twitching and flight unsteady. She looked like she was in a lot of pain, shaking her head every couple of seconds.

It didn’t stop me from crying out in delight, so relieved to _finally_ see a familiar face.

The horizon lurched sideways. Another net went sailing past.

The elder swooped over the fleet, spitting a fireball below. She put all of her energy into flying up and out of range.

The next net came from behind, a blur in the periphery of my vision. By the time I had snapped around to face it, it was already too late. It curled around the elder, tangling in her wings.

My insides flip-flopped as we began to fall. The Hum-Wing flung me up towards her and wrapped her body around me.

A huge, bone-cracking impact sent brilliant lights flickering across my eyes, filling me with nausea.

I couldn’t breathe. We were—we were captured—we were in a net—!

The elder was rumbling with a snarl. She held on tight, but couldn’t keep her grip. Something yanked me out of her grasp.

My ears were still screaming with pain. My entire body ached from the fall.  I could still hardly see, blinded by the sudden bright sunlight and the force of the impact. A growing, pounding migraine made all of it worse, amplifying the pain and nausea and sparks spattering across my eyes.

Panic found easy footing and flooded through me.

I wrenched around, baring my teeth and clawing at the silhouettes working around me. They were dancing back and forth like shadows, the sun above them beaming and blinding.

The net loosened. Rough hands latched onto my arms and yanked me out of it. I was being pulled this way and that by every limb, and with each jolt my migraine worsened, more spikes of light flashing through my vision.

“ _No!_ ” I gasped, kicking and writhing. My head was pounding, my thoughts swarming, my breath gone, my limbs throbbing from the impact.

Something rammed into my chest, pinning my arms against a form behind me.

I sank my teeth into it.

Blood filled my mouth. I was thrown to the ground. Someone kicked me, knocking the air out of me. I curled up, clenching my eyes shut against the onslaught, desperately trying to throw my arms up to protect my head. I tried to curl up under my wings and tail, but couldn’t.

Everything grew still. The ringing in my ears began to fade, allowing me to hear the waves crashing into the ships and the elder’s terrified growls.

It all caught up to me at once.

Horror crushed me there, grinding me into the deck with the weight of what I’d done.

I’d…attacked someone.

I’d _bitten_ someone.

The phantom shadow, ever present, began to laugh. I grit my teeth and clawed at my hair.

“ _No_ ,” I whimpered. “ _No, no_ , no…”

“Would’ya listen to that,” a woman was shouting, but her voice sounded tinny and muffled. “Ya hear the unholy sounds it’s makin’?”

Everything was swirling around me. The Kill Ring—I was back in my cage, Dad was there—he was bleeding, I’d bitten him, I’d hurt him, he hated me, he was going to _kill_ me!

 _Not now!_ I begged. _Please, not now!_

Something solid and hard rammed into my stomach and flipped me onto my back. A scream ripped from my throat. The elder shrieked with outrage.

Through the pain and panic, I forced my eyes open and squinted. There was someone standing over me, pinning me with their foot.

The shadow swirled through my mind, distracting me, threatening to overcome me with memories. Being hunted. The Kill Ring. Dad.

_It’s not real!_

I forced every ounce of strength into focusing on the person holding me down—the person in the real world, in the present, _not_ my father.

Realization set in, and I wished I hadn’t.

A nasty grin spread across the face of Bertha, Chieftain of the Bog Burglars.

“Well,” she sneered. “I guess that saves us a trip.”


	15. Chapter 14

 

Toothless

The ocean swooped upon me, curling around my legs and wings and spinning me at dizzying speeds. I was too heavy to struggle, drifting further into that black abyss, helpless and alone. That humming sound pounded against my ears, that paradoxical song of something that was and wasn’t.

“ _Hiccup_ ,” I whispered.

My lungs filled with water. I snapped my eyes open and bolted upright.

“Woah!” Astrid yelped.

“ _Ki-ing!_ ” Stormfly whined.

I sucked in heavy breaths, flicking my eyes about. My chest was stinging, but not from the aftermath of soulfire.

Berk. We were on Berk. The sun was at its highest peak; it had only been a few hours.

“You okay?” Astrid asked, still lounging against Stormfly’s side. She shifted around so that she faced me. “Did you hear something?”

I shook my head, blinking in the blinding light. A daze was pressing firmly on my head, dulling my senses. The world swayed, and I jumped and dug my claws into the ground for purchase.

A soft, warm paw put a gentle pressure on my forehead. I closed my eyes and almost couldn’t reopen them.

“You look really out of it,” Astrid said. “Maybe try to sleep more?”

With a groan, I shook my head again and got to my feet.

“But _King!_ ” Stormfly whimpered, pawing at me with her wing. “I was so comfy.”

I studied her. Thank the Dragoness of the Moon, she seemed perfectly herself. Although, in hindsight, that might not exactly forebode well for the rest of Berk now that the rambunctious yearling was back on her feet.

“How are you feeling, Stormfly?” I asked. My voice came out much more hoarse than I expected it to.

She gave a huge yawn. “I’m _ti-red_. Can we sleep some more? Please? I promise I won’t snore or—hey, _human!_ ”

Astrid had gotten to her feet, much to the Stormfly’s despair. Stormfly snapped her jaw out and grabbed Astrid’s paw, dragging her back towards her.

“It’s _sleeping time!_ ” She said. “You’re a fledgling, and you need sleep!”

Astrid patted her and Stormfly immediately forgot that she was holding her human captive. This allowed Astrid to slip away to come stand at my side, making it clear that she would follow me wherever I went. Yet…that didn’t make me upset or even annoyed. The idea that she had been sent to babysit me wasn’t as patronizing or bothersome as I thought it would be. When I met her eyes, I could see real concern.

I sighed and let myself lean into the shoulder of my former adversary, just for a moment. “Thank you, Astrid.”

She grinned. “There you go. Now—”

Her eyes widened and her smile fell. In a single, smooth movement, she ripped her axe from her side and shouted, “ _Duck!_ ”

I threw myself down. Stormfly squealed. Astrid swung her weapon.

_Thunk._

“Ow!”

Wide awake now, I whipped around, wings half-opened and head low.

The colorful dragon from the raid was sitting _right_ there, rubbing a delicate paw over his head where Astrid’s strike had met its mark. “My, my,” he moaned. “And you mean to tell me you _protect_ these humans?”

He had no more time to speak. I pounced, launching at him faster than I’d moved in days. His eyes widened and his form flickered. He suddenly disappeared from sight.

A solid impact, and both of us crashed into the ground. Just as quickly as he had vanished, the colorful dragon reappeared, eyes huge. He snapped at my neck, forcing me to rear up, and then tried to dig his paws into my belly to push me off. I threw myself down, putting all of my weight into my front paws, and slammed my claws into his shoulders.

He cried out in pain and yelped, “I submit, Savior!”

“It’s the mean dragon!” Stormfly screeched. In the corner of my eye, she leaped to her feet and scrambled behind me towards Astrid, wings flapping wildly and spines standing on end. “I-I’ll protect you, human!”

I leered at the colorful dragon, leaning down and snarling with my teeth inches from his exposed throat. Lighting gas drifted freely between my fangs, a promise of a slow and painful death just a moment’s thought away.

“ _Where—is—Hiccup?!_ ” I roared.

Eyes wide and petrified, the colorful dragon cringed away. “You mean—the—the human Savior?” He wheezed.

I dug my claws deeper into his scales and opened my jaw wide, allowing the fire within to build up just enough for light to fill my throat. It was reflected in the colorful dragon’s eyes, and he cringed away into the earth in a futile attempt to avoid incineration.

“I’m sorry!” He rushed. “Yes! I can tell you! If you’d listen, then—!”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve saying that,” I cut him off, keeping my voice low and calm. “Now tell me where he is _right now_ , or I’ll tear you to shreds.” I dug my claws further into his scales, shearing right through the delicate scales of his underside.

He grimaced with clear pain and squirmed. “We—we were returning him! We were taking him back here, but we were intercepted. I lost sight of my nestmates, and him with them.”

His eyes shone with clear fear; he was telling the truth.

I almost _screamed_. Here he was, dangling the idea that Hiccup had almost made his way back—only for him to carelessly _lose_ him?!

“What do you mean?!” I hissed. “ _Intercepted?_ You _lost sight_ of him? How?!”

He didn’t meet my stare, eyes flicking around to keep me in his peripheral vision. His hind legs kicked uselessly at my stomach, and he wriggled long enough for me to slam my weight into him again. That drove the lesson clear through him, and he went limp in submission.

“The fog, Savior,” he gasped. “Have you not seen it, far out on the horizon? It appeared without warning underneath us, bringing with it a nest of dragons whom I did not care to reveal myself to. By the time I had flown over it, it filled all my vision, and then—and then I was deafened by _something_. It disoriented me, and I camouflaged myself and flew here as fast as I could. I had hoped that the Four-Wing had already beaten me here, but…”

He fell silent, eyes distant, staring into the past.

“But _what?_ ” I growled.

“But…I heard the song,” he breathed. “Had I not channeled my magic into my speed, I certainly would have perished. My nestmates…I dread that they’ve been taken up in it, and the Savior with them.” He tilted his head towards me and met my eyes. “Please, Savior, we must make haste. I apologize on my nest’s behalf. We were trying to keep you safe from exactly this. But surely the human Savior has to be immune?”

The fog. Stormfly. The ocean. Singing dragons. Our missing nestmates.

And they had thrown Hiccup right in the middle of it.

“You…you…you _fools!_ ” I snarled, at a loss of words. “When did this happen?!”

“Late morning,” he wheezed. “I flew here as fast as I could. If we act now, we shall find the Savior and my nestmates, and then we can discuss—”

“I won’t discuss anything with _you_ ,” I interrupted “Your nest can perish in fire, for all I care. Now get up!”

He gaped at me and lied there, even as I stepped off of him. With a wince, he rolled over and stood on shaking legs, head lowered.

“Savior,” he said with surprising confidence, considering how outpowered he was. “We did not act out of malice, nor stupidity. Less than half our nest remains, and all our young have vanished. We have tried unsuccessfully to stop this for almost two moons to no avail. We _need_ a Savior.” Real pain flashed through his eyes and shook his voice, “We need _help._ We just want them to come _home._ ”

“Save your excuses for someone who cares,” I spat.

“Yeah!” Stormfly piped up. “You hurt our humans and nestmates _and_ you took our King! That’s not nice!”

“Toothless, what’s going on?” Astrid whispered, crouched with her axe readied. “Should I get the Chief? Is it Hiccup?”

I nodded without taking my eyes off of the intruder. She spun on her heel and ran. Stormfly squawked and chased after her, shouting about needing to protect her from the “mean dragons”.

The intruder trailed his eyes after them and straightened into a more dignified pose. He met my gaze, eyes half-lidded, and then lowered them to his feet. “We are frightened, Savior,” he murmured. “Some of our young can take care of themselves, but many will not survive outside the care of our nestmates. We know not where they are, nor what’s become of them. With each day that passes without them, we despair all the more, knowing they very well may be dead.”

He sunk deep into an odd bow, one paw straight in front of him and his forehead pressed completely into the grass. “I know we have caused you much pain. I am truly sorry. We saw no other choice, Savior. We need help _now._ ”

I leered, scrunching my nose up at him, unwilling to calm from my anger. Excuses were all they were. We had lost our young, too, and _we_ weren’t flying about stealing Kings from their nests. Now Hiccup was gone, and…

…Hiccup…

How had he reacted to this?

I grit my teeth and lowered my head. He certainly wouldn’t have been as cruel as me, scoffing and wishing death upon the intruder’s nest. He would have been doing something actually useful, not wasting time on petty revenge.

Showing my teeth, I squared up and narrowed my eyes at him. “I will not forgive you,” I said. “But…but we have to work together, to get Hiccup and all of our nestmates back. Our young have started disappearing as well.”

He growled. “Then it is spreading at far more a rapid pace than we expected.” He rose, and his eyes were steeled. “I apologize, Savior. We were rash, and all for nothing. But I will make it up to you. I shall tell you all I know, and follow your commands as though you were my King.”

I glanced out in the direction of the ocean, but couldn’t see it from here.

Hiccup was out there, just out of reach. Just out of sight.

I turned to the intruder. “Get on with it, then!”

**o.O.o**

The Color-Shifter was just as lost as I was.

All of the young in his nest had disappeared and had been gone for a long time. Around the same time, the nest began to encounter the singing dragons, which were somehow connected to the plumes of fog rising up from the ocean. His King had been working tirelessly to provide meals for his entire nest, only allowing them to leave when he became frightened enough to begin his search for us, the Saviors, a few weeks ago.

They had not an idea for what the singing dragons were or why—only that they overcame their nestmates and that the song was “contagious”. It could “infect” nearby dragons, turning them into singing dragons. The singing dragons themselves moved erratically, and they had only been directly encountered by their nest a few times. Almost all of their losses were unseen, their young flying out to explore or hunt and never returning.

The rage of seeing the intruder on our island had faded, leaving me emptier than I thought possible. The loss of my brother only compounded with his presence. Hiccup was so, so close—and then snatched away, leaving me with _this_ dragon instead.

Hiccup would have handled this better. Now half our nest was gone, thrown into a danger none of us quite understood, and it was all my fault. If they died, it would be because of my own foolishness. I was no better than the Color-Shifter’s King. As much as it burned me to admit, I’d likely hurt just as many dragons in my desperation as he had.

By the time Astrid returned with the human King, I was hunched over with guilt and shock, wide eyes locked towards the northward seas in desperate search of the fog that supposedly drifted just below the horizon.

“What is it?!” The King demanded. He froze, taking in the sight of the Color-Shifter, and unsheathed his sword.

The Color-Shifter raised a brow. “How welcoming. Do _all_ humans greet dragons like that?”

I raised my lip. “Only humans whose nests you’ve attacked.”

The Color-Shifter actually had the grace to look a little guilty at that.

The King stepped to my side, eyes burning. “Is this one of the dragons that took Hiccup?”

I nodded. The King rolled his shoulders and took a step closer—and I held a wing out to stop him.

He glared first at me and then the intruder, but did not advance further. “Right. We’ll need it alive to take us to Hiccup.”

I cringed, bracing myself—and then shook my head “no” as deliberately as I could. Taking several steps towards the Color-Shifter, I turned to face the perplexed humans. I pointed the human way at myself and then pointed north towards the ocean. Then I pointed the human way at them and stomped on the ground several times.

“We need a King here to protect our nest.”

The King raised his chin, meeting my eyes evenly. “I am not staying here if we know where my son is.”

With a short growl, I shook my head and pointed out over the nest. We were standing on a hill that overlooked a significant portion of it, showing all of the damaged wood-caves and scorch marks. Again, I pointed at the King and then at his nest. Facing north, I crouched low and hissed up at the sky as if it were full of intruding dragons all over again.

The King pinned me with a firm stare and advanced to my side. “I am going.”

“A rather aggressive human, is he not?” The Color-Shifter hummed. He sat down and groomed his wing, trying so hard to look casual that he started to overdo it. “I’m impressed you understand their wordy language. I can’t imagine it would be easy to learn if this is the norm.”

“Yeah, our Kings are _way_ smarter than you!” Stormfly squawked, narrowing her eyes at him and lashing her tail. A huge, smug grin grew on her muzzle, and she pressed closer to Astrid and crowed, “Even _I_ know more than you!”

The Color-Shifter stopped “preening” to shoot her a reprimanding look. “Why, for such a small yearling—”

“Argh! _Enough!_ ” I snapped. “We are going, and _you_ are staying!” I pointed at the King and stomped the ground multiple times.

“We’re gonna save the King!” Stormfly sang.

I whipped towards her. “No! Nobody is going but me! I’m not sending anyone else into this, not when _none_ of them are coming back! And that includes you!” I threw my paw at the confused King again, even though I knew perfectly well that he had no clue what I was saying.

She lowered her head, eyes huge. “But…”

“You will not leave this island! That is an order!”

Stormfly whined, tail swaying and wings fluttering. “B-but I wanna help…”

Astrid cleared her throat, holding up a paw. “Hold on a second. Toothless, I guess I can kinda get why you’d want us to stay. I get that we’d slow you down.”

That was not even remotely what I was thinking, but I nodded anyways.

She crossed her paws on her chest and quirked a brow. “But still, you could barely stand a few _hours_ ago. A little bit of sleep isn’t gonna change that. What, you think you can just fly out to get Hiccup and be perfectly fine?”

“I’m not about to throw you into danger,” I hissed. With a grimace, I looked away and murmured, “I’ve done enough of that already.”

“Hiccup said you couldn’t fly well with that,” the King reminded me, pointing a paw at the artificial tailtip-fin. “What if you fall? What if you exhaust yourself? I’ll not have you fly recklessly into your own death.”

I lifted my head, blinking up at him. Not for the first time, I found myself faintly surprised.

The King’s kindness towards me the past few days had been odd at best, leaving me confused and a little guilty. Again and again I was surprised by his concerns for me—and unjustly so. He was my ally, someone worth listening to.

He was a King, too.

He was important to Hiccup, too.

The King turned to Astrid. “The ships have been readied since yesterday. We’ll launch a small fleet with Toothless and this dragon leading us. That way he can land to rest or if anything goes wrong.” He paused. “That is…if you agree, Toothless.”

I didn’t want them to go, to throw them into the unknown.

But after days of no leads and losing nestmate after nestmate, we had a chance _._

I nodded.

The King grunted in acknowledgment. “Then we set off at once. Astrid, you have to stay here to help with the dragons. Go let your friends know as well.”

She looked immensely disappointed, but nodded nonetheless. “Right, Chief. C’mon, Stormfly!” With one last nod at me and a suspicious look at the Color-Shifter, she darted off.

“What?!” Stormfly squeaked. “ _Again?_ Come back!”

The two were gone in seconds, leaving me alone with the human king and intruder Color-Shifter.

“So…care to explain all of that?” The Color-Shifter asked.

The King and I shared a look, ignoring him. Without saying anything, we took off into the nest and towards the docks. The Color-Shifter was forced to follow.

“We’re leaving at once,” I informed him. I frowned, glancing behind me at the tailtip-fin. “And I’m going to need your help.”

**o.O.o**

The floating-trees unfurled their wings and lurched into the bay.

The Color-Shifter and I slid from the cliffside, filling our wings with the wind and rocketing out after them. The air was wild and unsteady here against the cliffs. Already, my wings were dipping wildly from the clashing currents beneath us.

“Now!” I ordered.

A ray of fire swept underneath me, throwing me upwards. I threw my tail behind me and flapped as hard as I could, struggling to gain height. It was no use; without Hiccup on my back to keep me stable, it was almost impossible not to flip over.

“Again!”

More fire. More height. More stable air.

Four more times the Color-Shifter helped me rise. We stopped when the air became smoother and full of thermals, the floating-trees and wood-caves small below.

Even from here, I could see our nestmates staring up at me with fear and sadness in their eyes. They had _begged_ to follow us, but I would not allow it. Many roared encouragements and prayers to the Dragon of the Sun and Dragoness of the Moon. It was a small comfort.

I ripped my eyes away and focused ahead. I did everything I could to maintain a flat gliding position, making sure to give a shallow flap here and there to keep myself from losing altitude. The Color-Shifter swept up beside me, eyeing the artificial tailtip-fin.

“Very impressive,” he said. “Although limited in functionality.”

“I’d like to see _you_ make one with your own paws,” I growled. “Hiccup exhausted himself working on this.”

“And his fake wings, I’d assume.”

“They’re real,” I snorted with a roll of my eyes. “If they let him fly, they’re wings. Which only makes him all the more incredible.”

The Color-Shifter frowned at me, swaying along the thermals. I avidly ignored him, glancing below at the humans.

There were only three floating-trees in total. The King wanted a small, maneuverable group that was at least a little stealthy. There were also not too many healthy, unwounded humans to spare. Not to mention that while we knew the _raiding_ dragons would not return, we had no leads on the _singing_ dragons or the enemy human nests.

“Does he believe in the Dragon of the Sun and Dragoness of the Moon?”

The question was so random that I swerved away and had to correct myself. I steadied my wings and tail and answered, “Of course.”

He nodded in approval. “Well, that’s good to hear. It would be unfortunate for a Savior not to believe in the gods, with soulfire being a godly power. I still find it incredibly inspiring that you two were granted it, what with what fate befell Sphere.”

For once, I agreed with him, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of it. Instead, I grunted, trailing my eyes across the crashing waves of the ocean. We were flying along at a painfully slow pace, which wasn’t helped by the ache still stinging through my limbs.

We flew on in silence…until the Color-Shifter decided that it was too awkward for him.

“It’s quite comedic, actually,” he babbled. “Almost all of my nestmates thought him a fledgling. It was very taxing to convince them that he was indeed the Savior, and it certainly didn’t help that he caught on and played along with it.”

I couldn’t hide a proud smile at that. “I’m not surprised. Hiccup is the smartest Shadow-Blender I know.”

Again he sent me that conflicted, confused look. I was dead-set on not addressing it, but he wasn’t.

“…Shadow-Blender, Savior?”

“Yes.”

“But…Surely you’ve noticed he has the body of a human—”

“I know what he _looks_ like!” I snapped.

The Color-Shifter startled, flapping away. I sighed, shaking my head and gazing down at the floating-trees. At the King.

“It’s…complicated,” I answered, ears drooping. “I know… _we_ know that he has the body of a human. We aren’t willfully-ignorant fools, as much as you and the human King would think.”

“But…?” The Color-Shifter pressed, ignoring my jab at him.

I flapped my wings, turning my sights ahead. “But very little does it _feel_ like it,” I finished. “Hiccup does things no human could ever do, like flying.”

“Yet both of you fly by the workings of his own two paws,” the Color-Shifter said gently. “A task that I myself could never do, nor you, just as you said earlier.”

I didn’t know what to say to that—well, I had a _lot_ to say, but most of it was inappropriate—so I leered at him. “Why do you insist on talking about this?”

He sighed, eyes flicking from the distant horizon to the humans below. “Because…the Savior seemed so deeply conflicted on this matter. He was like that even when we first scouted your island. Then, after we... _retrieved_ him—wrongfully, of course—I asked him directly, and I believe my King did as well. He would not—or _could_ not answer.”

Hearing this stung more than any lingering pain from the soulfire. Not only because I was not there for him, but also because, as damned as I was to admit it, _I_ probably contributed to it. In always ignoring the human part of him and encouraging the dragon part, had I only made him feel all the more conflicted about everything?

I cringed, looking away. I would not allow the Color-Shifter to see the impact of his words. “So you _were_ the ones who grabbed him on that night? You were the ones who _dropped_ him?”

“W-well…yes. In our defense, I did camouflage myself and fly after him, but I was nearly struck by...well...my apologies, Savior, but _your_ fire.”

I snapped my neck towards him, eyes narrowed. Gas flew into my throat.

With great effort, I swallowed it. In a steady, low voice, I growled, “You’re lucky I need you.”

The Color-Shifter winced away. “Y-yes.” Unable to leave himself unexcused, he rambled, “When we spent those first nights scouting your island, we saw how he was always with you. So we reasoned that he could be the human Savior. But after seeing him speak to you and those fledglings, all of us were confused on _what_ he was.”

I said nothing—something I had quickly learned made the Color-Shifter extremely uneasy.

Just as expected, the Color-Shifter grimaced at my silence and gave a dainty sniff. “Well, regardless...No need dwelling on such gloomy matters. But I must say…”

He gave a weak chuckle.

“He certainly _does_ have a way of shifting his fate when he wants to.”

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

I really wanted to throw myself back into the fog.

“W-wait!” I stammered, struggling uselessly as burly men and women surrounded me on all sides. Rope was squeezed around my chest and arms, constricting me so much that I felt nauseated and breathless. Grasping hands were pinning my limbs, my shoulders, even my neck. I could hardly hear anything over the thundering of my heart.

The taste of blood on my teeth made me dizzy with sickness. I blinked rapidly as the forms of the Bog Burglars shifted into those of Berk’s villagers, the Kill Ring dancing at the edge of my mind’s eye.

“I’m sorry!” I gasped, writhing around. “I didn’t mean to—it was an accident!”

“Oh, an _accident?_ ” Bertha laughed, stepping up to me and staring down at me with just as much intensity as the King. “Just like all those villages you destroyed was an _accident?_ Just like how blastin’ one of our own to pieces and draggin’ ‘im off was an _accident?!_ ”

I stopped struggling, my breath leaving me as cold shock crashed through my heart.

Bertha laughed again, but now it was humorless and pained. “Oh, it remembers alright! Ya know _exactly_ what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, don’t’cha?”

“It wasn’t…” I began to shake my head. “It wasn’t _me._ There—there was a huge dragon that could control us. She _made_ me do it.”

“Just like yer makin’ those dragons raid all of these villages?” Bertha asked, sweeping her arm out across the ocean. “Decided to have a little check-up on ‘em, huh?”

“No! We had nothing to do with that!” I said, trying to wrench around in my bindings and finding absolutely no purchase.

Bertha raised an eyebrow, believing exactly none of what I was saying. “Then why was everyone but Berk attacked?”

My voice shook with desperation, “We were attacked, too— _twice_. That’s why I’m here, because they took me.”

Bertha pursed her lips and exchanged a look with her tribesmen, crossing her arms. She studied me, searching for a lie.

“ _Please_ ,” I said. “I-I think I know why they’re attacking all the tribes. If we work together, then we can stop it and—”

Bertha and her men laughed.

“So ya want us ta let ya go?” Bertha said. “Send ya on yer merry way back to Berk while we deal with all the raids?” She leaned in, nose-to-nose with me, and growled, “I know ya got _somethin’_ ta do with this.”

“I _don’t_ ,” I said, even though it was a lie. “It’s… _something_ else.”

She grinned. “And how would ya know that?”

I ducked my head, putting all of my energy into focusing on her eyes, on what she was saying and what _I_ was saying. “Because…I talked to them. And they listened to me.”

Bertha tried to hide her surprise, but even I saw it. The hands around me tightened.

“I—I don’t know _what_ it is, but…but I can get them to leave you alone,” I rushed. “We just…we just have to work _together._ And I can convince them to never fly near your island again. They’ll listen to me, I promise.”

For a long moment, she searched my eyes for deception. Then Bertha drew away.

“So…” She mused. “You _can_ control them, to some extent.”

My eyes widened. “No!” I said. “No. I can just _talk_ to them. I can’t force them to do anything. They just listen to me.”

She sent me a narrow-eyed look and shook her head. “Well, then that’s good ta hear. Put it in the hull with the others. And the Gronckle, too, but put a dart in it first.”

“Chief,” a man to her right said. “If it’s tellin’ the truth, wouldn’t it be good ta strike a deal with it?”

“I’ll get them to leave you alone!” I said, trying to ignore the way all of them called me an “it”. “All I want is to go back to Berk. Just sail a little south and you never have to see me again.”

Bertha gave a wry smile. “Oh, it’s temptin’, alright.” She waved at her men, and they began to push me across the deck. “But I don’t bargain with monsters. And even if I did, I’m afraid we’re all still under orders.”

The elder let out a sharp yelp. I dug my feet into the deck. The warriors simply picked me up and began to carry me.

“W-wait!” I cried, panic rushing through me. “Just _listen_ to me! I’m not the one sending the raids out!” In a desperate grab for her attention, I said, “ They’re going to keep happening if you do this!”

“Make sure ya put it in its own cage,” Bertha told her warriors. “Keep it away from tha loud ones—can’t have _this_ one goin’ stupid on us.”

They dragged me down into the hull, lit only by a single lantern with a tiny little fire in it. It cast long, dark shadows.

Blank, glazed dragon eyes reflected its light. The sound of the ocean fell away to their humming.

The song.

“No!” I said my chest squeezing with fear. It was making my thoughts buzz, muffled like I was underwater.

A loud squeak, and the cage furthest away from them was opened. The men literally threw me in. I cried out as my bad arm hit first, curling up and hissing.

With a deafening clang, they slammed the cage shut. There was some shuffling, and the forms of several men went past me, dragging the elder in her net. They put her into another cage, this one with two other dragons already in it.

The dragons didn’t even flinch, like it never happened.

 _Dragon of the Sun, Hiccup,_ do something! I nearly roared to myself as my thoughts scrambled like darting insects.

“Wait,” I gasped, struggling against my bindings. “I’m not…h-hold on! The raids—they’ll keep happening if you trap us, they won’t know where we went! They’ll start looking for us!”

One of them shot an uncertain look at the others, but another gave a gruff laugh.

“Then we’ll just capture ‘em, just like with these,” he said, gesturing at the singing dragons.

I writhed around and managed to sit myself upright and nearly growled, “These dragons in here aren’t the same as the raiding ones.”

“Oh, we know that,” the same man from before said. “They’ve been quite useful. Just throw a wily dragon next ta ‘em, and in a little while, it’s just as stupid as tha rest of ‘em.”

A memory flashed before my eyes: the Bog Burglars’ ships, singing dragons flying out of them. We’d thought that they had _escaped._ Now I realized that they’d been released towards us, on purpose, so that our nestmates would suffer the same fate.

“No…” I murmured, my mind racing.

“Well, then,” the man said. “I’d love ta make a deal with ya, but orders are orders. Have fun with tha beasties!”

He stepped away from my cage and blew the fire out. A beam of light came from the door—only to be shut again, launching me into shadows.

It was freezing. I could barely move. My old wounds lit up as I lurched in my bindings, desperate to escape.

“No…no…” I breathed, clenching my eyes shut. It was pitch-black in here, and yet vivid places and people flashed right in front of me, just like I was there. Cold dread crept down my spine. I had to fight them off—I couldn’t let these shadows sweep over me, not here, now now—!

The Kill Ring. Dad standing over me, nursing his wounded arm after I’d bitten him. Waiting to die. Hearing dozens of dragons killed for sport. Losing contact with Toothless, being left alone in unbearable silence.

There was still blood on my teeth.

 _No!_ I fought the shadows as my chest burned and the ropes bit down like vipers. _It’s not real!_

I shuddered like I’d fallen into a lake of ice, curling up as best as I could. “ _It is fine_ ,” I gasped. “ _It is fine. It is fine. It is fine…_ ”

**o.O.o**

My head was buzzing, my eyelids fluttering.

Familiar. Close. The song was like a reflection turned to sound, lost and empty. The singing dragons were filled with it, but persisted nonetheless, carrying on no matter how hard it was. It muffled everything else, pushing it all away, hiding it just out of perception.

Time passed.

I was still curled up and shivering when a pained moan broke through the song, snapping me out of my daze.

Lifting my head, I worked my mouth several times before croaking, “ _Hello?_ ”

A pause.

The elder wheezed out a greeting that melted into an apology, letting out a mournful sigh. Her voice was faint and tight with pain.

“ _You okay?!_ ” I gasped. Getting control of myself, I dragged out, “ _Toothless…know…you…here?_ ”

“ _No_ ,” she groaned. “ _…and…no._ ”

I wriggled in my bindings once more. It worked out just as great as it did last time, which was not at all. Fear swept through me all over again, and I closed my eyes and took in several deep breaths.

“ _King_ ,” the elder whispered. She went on to ask me something, but her voice was too muffled by the singing dragons.

“ _Me okay,_ ” I said. “ _Nest King want soulfire._ ”

She sighed and repeated the same question as before; she hadn’t understood me. I was tempted to speak in Norse so at least _one_ of us knew what the other was saying, but I didn’t want the Bog Burglars to listen in and draw conclusions. They’d already done enough of that, and it had landed me down here and probably further and further away from Toothless with each passing minute.

“ _Nest…King…want…soulfire_ ,” I said.

There was a shift in the singing dragons’ song, just barely noticeable enough to be detected. I hadn’t even registered it before they went right back to it.

The elder spit out a curse. Her words were slurred together; the dart had really done some damage.

“ _You okay?_ ” I asked again.

For a moment, she said nothing. Then, in a thin voice, “… _no._ ”

A great weight fell upon me. The hairs on my neck stood on end. “ _W-what?_ ”

She gasped for breath. Her words were lost in how long she dragged them out, like she was drifting to sleep and couldn’t focus on working her tongue correctly.

 _Not again! Not again!_ I thought frantically. Trapped in the dark, unable to help, listening to her suffer—it was just like the Kill Ring, just like those excruciating and long hours that had filled my dreams with nightmares.

“ _Talk!_ ” I gasped, both for her and myself. “ _Talk more!_ _Where our nestmates?_ ”

Her words were too sluggish. All I could understand was the fear and confusion beneath the weariness, but it seemed so distant; like she _knew_ to be scared but was too tired to be.

“ _Where Toothless?_ ” I asked in desperation. “ _Where...where human King?_ ”

The elder growled, shuffling around in her cage. When she spoke, some of the life had returned, sending a weak flutter of hope through my heart. “ _…nest…safe…_ ”

It was too vague, the singing dragons too loud. I tried to paw at my head, only for pain to shoot through my arms in a firm reminder that I was still tied up. “ _Home?_ ” I gasped into the shadows. “ _They okay?_ ”

“ _Yes_ ,” she said. She spoke more, and as she did, her words slowed down and began to drag out again.

In just a single sentence, her speaking went from normal to lethargic.

“ _Elder?_ ”

A new voice joined in the humming, soft and weary and almost uncertain.

“ _Elder!_ ” I snapped.

“ _Huh?_ ” She gasped. She growled again, now with much more fear. She began to rush her slurred speech, trying hopelessly to warn me about…about…

A frightened hiss slid between my teeth. “ _What? No understand._ ”

“ _No…no…_ ” More shuffling, a weak thump. “ _No…hm…_ ”

I threw myself around, wrenching against the ropes no matter how useless it was. “ _Elder!_ ” I whisper-yelled. “ _Please!_ ”

She broke off her humming again with another growl.

Her sad, resolute sigh might as well have been as loud as thunder, it was so sudden and unwelcome.

“ _No!_ ” I managed to wriggle around and kick the cage with my prosthetic leg, sending painful vibrations up through my leg. “Agh! _Please no! Listen to me! Me talk now, okay? No leave me, okay?!_ ”

“… _o-k-a-y_ ,” she breathed.

My heart was pounding so loud that I barely heard her. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry.

“ _It is fine_ ,” I whimpered. “ _You okay. Me promise. Nestmate go here and save us. You need to talk, okay?_ ”

“ _Hm…_ ”

“ _Elder!_ ” In frantic desperation, I ordered, “ _Me you King! Me help you! Listen to me!_ ”

The elder sighed again, and with the same breath she drifted back into the humming.

It pounded against my ears like hammer-strikes, rattling me down to my core. “ _No!_ ” I commanded her. “ _No! Stop!_ ”

She did—for a second.

It was getting harder to breathe. I blinked rapidly, like if I did it enough, then I would be able to magically see.

“ _It is fine!_ ” I lied. “ _It is fine! Listen to me!_ ”

Her voice blended with the song so seamlessly that I struggled to tell them apart. Focusing on it was almost impossible; the more I turned my attention on it, the further it slunk out of sights, leaving me confused and disorientated.

“ _No…please…no leave me here…”_

The song only intensified, swirling through the hull and creeping into my thoughts.

I cried out to her as loud as I dared for several minutes. It was only when my throat went dry and my entire body was shaking from the stress and pain that it finally got through to me. There was nothing I could do.

Again.

Despair tore me to pieces, useless and broken. I grit my teeth so tight that pain flashed through my jaw and curled into a ball.

The song roared around me.

I was alone.


	16. Chapter 15

 

Hiccup

“ _It is fine_ ,” I chanted, focusing all of my concentration on the sound of each syllable, of each breath, of _anything_ that wasn’t that horrible song. “ _It is fine. It is fine. It is—_ ”

_SCREECH!_

I cut myself off with a gasp, snapping my eyes open.

The light stung. The squeal of the cages opening was even worse.

The singing dragons, elder included, stood idly by as their cages were opened, escape just within grasp. Seeing them standing there with freedom inches away was _agonizing_.

“ _Fly!_ ” I hissed at them, hoping beyond hope that they could magically break free now that they had a chance.

They didn’t—they _couldn’t._

One by one a rope was draped around their necks and they were lead out. I could do nothing but watch as each one was dragged just past my cage, just out of reach. Every passing dragon cast a shadow over me, and with each brief bout of darkness, the emptiness of the hull seemed to close further in.

They Bog Burglars went for the elder last. She stood in her opened cage with blank eyes, staring right through me.

“ _Elder, fly!_ ” I whispered, my voice shaking with disbelief at what I was seeing, at the sight of such a powerful and proud dragon reduced to _this._

They led her out like she was a dumb pet, yielding to the slightest tug on her leash. A second passed, and the Bog Burglars tromped back into the hull, making a beeline for my cage. My breath hitched.

I began to hum, just loud enough for them to hear.

“Well, would’ya look at that!” The man from before said. “It _does_ affect it. I thought it hadn’t fer a few seconds.”

“Guess it was too quiet with all the other dragons around,” a woman guessed. “Welp, anyways…”

The cage squealed as it was opened. I locked every limb in place, so tense my muscles felt moments from tearing. It took an incredible amount of concentration not to stare at them, not to curl away, not to follow the movements of their hands to make sure they hadn’t drawn a weapon.

The woman stepped in and crouched beside me, reaching out to grab me. My breath caught, and at the same time, she cringed and paused. She let her hands hover over me for a moment before pulling back. “Can we…can we muzzle it?” She asked uneasily.

“Bah!” The man laughed. “Listen ta it. It’s just as dumb as tha rest of ‘em.”

“R-Right…”

That was my only warning before she snatched me up and lifted me to my feet. I wanted like nothing else to wrench away, to bare my teeth and _hiss_ at them. Against all instincts, I let my eyes unfocus and poured all of my strength into keeping up the fake song and holding still.

A loop of rope was pulled around my shoulders. A light tug.

I tried to take a step forward, but the bindings already in place were too tight.

“Let’s untie those,” the man said.

“But—but sir—!”

“I promise ya, Helga, it’s not gonna bite ya.”

“Tell that ta Mogodon!”

“Well, it’s just a surface wound. Probably won’t even leave a scar. A shame, really…”

 _Great Dragon of the Sun. Don’t stop humming_ , I told myself. _Don’t stop humming. Just keep humming._

The blurred forms crept closer, so out of focus that they was distorted by the light behind. The ropes around my torso and legs were loosened and removed. When they were done, all that was left was the rope binding my wrists in front of me and the rope leashed around my neck and shoulders.

Another tug. I swallowed and followed obediently. Every inch of me screamed to wrestle away, to climb up somewhere high and leap into the air.

_Don’t stop humming._

We stepped onto the deck. Cold air erupted from all directions, the wind furious as it blasted us with powerful gusts that smelled of rain. It was late in the night, the moon already sinking from its highest point. The ship had slowed to a meandering drift, its sails closed and bound. Firelight cast long shadows across the deck.

...and onto another ship. It was just as fancy and foreign as the one we were on now. A sturdy plank connected the Bog Burglar’s ship to the new one.

I blinked, almost letting up the humming.

Their allies. Bertha had threatened us with the Bog Burglar’s allies. That was where they got their new ship—the very same one we were standing on.

The rest of the dragons were lined up like they were being held at an auction. Bertha was standing beside a black-haired man just at the plank, her arms crossed and a smug grin settled across her face.

The man carefully inspected each dragon, stepping around them with a finger to his chin. He didn’t seem too happy, huffing and sighing like this whole show was a huge inconvenience. He even seemed a little uncertain. For a long moment, he stood in front of the line and studied them, his sharp eyes glimmering in the flickering firelight.

With a sigh, he waved a go-ahead for them to cross. Bertha nodded in approval and motioned her men, who were eager to lead the others onto the new ship.

That only left one last prisoner on Bertha’s ship: me.

Bertha motioned at us, and the Bog Burglars holding me in place tugged at the ropes. I paused, my thoughts swarming and unsteady. Who was this man? Why was he here? Why were the Bog Burglars trading with him? Where was he planning on taking us?

Like it or not, I was going to find out soon enough.

I allowed myself to get dragged along as every part of me screamed to fight back, as the long shadows coating the deck seemed to grow darker and darker. The man stepped forward to meet us. He stopped just close enough for me to make out his green eyes and some weird-looking tattoos on his chin.

I kept my gaze locked straight forward, even “singing” a little louder to really sell it.

“Feel free to cut that out any time now,” he drawled.

“W-what?!” Helga yelped, dropping the rope and twisting to face me.

“Do you really believe that?” The stranger chuckled and turned to me. “Come on now, let up with it already. Aren’t you getting a headache from all that?”

My shoulders drooped. With a sullen sigh, I said, “You caught me.”

Both of the Bog Burglars leapt away from me. Shooting them and the stranger apprehensive looks, I shouldered the rope around my torso off. It had been tied so loosely around my arms that it took hardly any effort to get it to fall straight to the ground. Before they could try to grab it, I stepped over it, making sure to clutch my arms—and wings—as tight to my sides as I could.

The man was already circling me, a finger to his chin. I watched him carefully as he went around once, then twice, without saying a single thing.

I clenched my teeth at the calculating way he stared at me, like I was just a _thing_ to be sold. He stopped directly in front of me, and it took almost all my self control not to square my feet and lower my head, not to wrinkle my nose and narrow my eyes.

“Are you done?” I finally rasped, unable to tolerate that greedy stare for any longer.

“I suppose so,” he said with a casual shrug. “I must say, that was pretty clever. But, you know…” He gestured at all of me. “I was expecting something bigger. Are you sure this is the one?”

“Oh, yes, we kidnapped some random lad from one of tha other tribes and he just played along with it,” Bertha said with fake cordiality. Rolling her eyes, she snapped, “Of course we know it’s tha one!”

“Of course, of course,” the stranger said, holding his hands up. “Not that I find you _untrustworthy_ , my dear Bertha, but of course you know that I need proof. Can’t just take some random boy with me, after all.”

“He literally flew towards our ships, bit one of my men, and spoke ta the dragons,” Bertha hissed. “Is that not proof enough?”

The man shot me a disbelieving look. “He _flew?_ ”

“U-uh, I don’t know what she’s talking about,” I said. “How can people _fly?_ ”

Bertha was so flabbergasted that she gaped like a fish, pointing wordlessly and all but shooting fire from her eyes. “What are you—are you—yes he _did!_ ”

“No, I didn’t!” I said with wide eyes.

Bertha ripped a mace from her belt. “Why you little—”

“Woah, woah! Easy now!” The man held up a hand to her and stepped between us. He waited until Bertha lowered her weapon before returning his attention to me. “What’s your take then, lad?”

I narrowed my eyes up at him. “Who even are you?”

“Answering a question with a question. Annoying.” He shrugged. “But understandable.” He went down into a grandiose bow, complete with twirling of his wrist and broad, swooping gestures.

“Is this really necessary—” Bertha huffed.

“I am Eret, son of Eret!” He raised himself to his full height, towering over me. “The most skilled dragon trapper alive.”

My heart sunk to my stomach. A dragon trapper.

I had just watched the elder get put on his ship.

Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head. “Not quite.”

Eret set me with a mildly-annoyed look before regaining his cool composure. “Oh, really?” He leaned down to my eye level like he was talking to a little kid. “And what gives you that idea?”

I nodded at the singing dragons. “The ‘most skilled dragon trapper alive’ is the thing doing _that._ ”

Something flickered across his eyes. He straightened up from his overdramatic position. “Ah, of course! You mean the loud ones?” Eret mused, glancing over his shoulder. “Yes, they’re quite a pain in my neck.” He turned suspicious eyes on me and stepped closer. “You wouldn’t have any idea what’s making them do that, now would ya, lad?”

I forced myself not to shrink away from his looming figure. “No,” I growled. “I don’t know anything about it.”

Except that it was contagious. That the singing dragons could drag others down with them. That it was related to the fog somehow. That the old King feared it more than anything, enough to send raids throughout the entire archipelago just for the slightest chance of fixing it.

Eret’s eyes flicked up and down my body. He bent over so that he was at my eye level again, so close that I could smell the mead on his breath.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not being honest with me, lad?” He said quietly. “Come now, it seems we’re allies here. We both would like to stop whatever’s doing _that_ , right?” He pointed at the song dragons. “So please, let me ask you one more time…what do you know about it?”

Frustration swept through me. This was getting out of control, and all because I was saying the wrong things. “Nothing!” I said. “All I know is that it does _that_ to any dragon that hears it, just like you. I can’t help you.”

“Hm.” Eret drew away. “Can’t you ask the dragons why they’re doing that?”

“Can’t you?” I asked. My voice shook a little, and I forced in a deep breath to calm my nerves. “I don’t know why you think I can, but I can’t speak to them.”

It wasn’t even a complete lie; only Toothless could understand me most of the time. Not even the _elder_ could understand me, even when she needed me the most.

“Yes, it can!” Bertha seethed. “That is the dragon-boy! Everyone here can give you their word! It’s lyin’!”

“Words mean nothing!” Eret said. “I need solid proof, or it’s _my_ head that’s under the cutting board. My master doesn’t exactly believe in third chances.”

“T-they just grabbed me out of nowhere!” I interjected. “I was just minding my own business, and they forced me on their ship.”

“You! Were! _Flyin’!_ ” Bertha shouted in stunned disbelief, waving her arms around. “Just look at it!”

“I have been,” Eret said, turning around to send her a look. “I don’t see magical wings.”

“Lift its arms up!” Bertha commanded, stomping right up to him so that she could stare him down.

Eret turned around, grabbed my bound wrists, and pulled them up.

“…Wow,” he said.

Bertha stared in confusion and fury. I flicked my eyes between her and Eret and wrenched my arm away.

While they were busy arguing, I had managed to tuck my wings in even with bound wrists. So instead of wings filling the space below my arms, there was a whole lot of nothing.

Eret scowled and twisted towards Bertha. “Bertha, I’ll have you know that I am on a _very_ tight schedule and I _do not_ appreciate you wasting my time!”

Bertha seethed and snapped her head towards her men. “Mogodon! Come over here!”

A burly man crept closer. Without being told, he lifted his arm and brandished his wound to show teeth marks. _Human_ teeth marks.

Eret turned and gave me a look that was both impressed and disgusted. “You actually bit ‘im?”

“I-I didn’t have any weapons!” I stammered. “They were surrounding me, I panicked!”

Again, he studied my face for a lie—and found none.

“Where are you from, lad?” He asked slowly, squinting at me.

“Are you going to take me back?” I returned.

“Hmf. No. I don’t have time for that.” Eret turned to Bertha and said, “I do not appreciate you bringing random boys to me, Bertha. I have half the mind not to pay you.”

“You _heard_ it!” She shouted, throwing a hand at me. “It was making sounds just like a dragon! It even knows about the stupid ones!”

“That is _not_ proof!” Eret said. “If I am personally not convinced, then I will not take him or pay you!”

“Then I’ll just have to show ya the beast that it is,” Bertha hissed venomously. She nodded at her warriors around her.

Metal screeches filled the air as weapons were drawn. Both Eret and I froze.

“ _Charge it!_ ” Bertha hollered, pointing her mace at me.

The air filled with battle cries. I stumbled backwards, but I was surrounded on all sides, my hands were still tied up, and not a single person or dragon was there to help me.

The Bog Burglars rushed me.

“Wait—!” I cried.

An explosion tore through the deck, filling the frigid, dark night with a vivid inferno.

**o.O.o**

Toothless

I barely made it on the floating-tree, gouging my claws in so I didn’t tumble right off of it and into the ocean. The floating-trees were moving fast and the ocean was as black as my scales under the night sky. Landing in the freezing ocean could very well be a death sentence.

My limbs shook and spots filled my vision as I panted for breath. I had to sit down.

“Are you well, Toothless?” The King asked. A warm, light touch brushed against my shoulder.

I nodded, too out of breath to speak. Suddenly I was incredibly grateful for Astrid forcing me to allow the King to come. A shudder crept down my spine at the alternative; of me making yet _another_ foolish decision and falling, exhausted, to my death below.

The Color-Shifter much less worse for wear; instead of landing, he chose to drift above on the thermals, unwilling to even _touch_ a human object. Still, true to his name, he swept overhead and altered his scale colors so that they were neon orange, stark against the midnight-blue sky. With one last, uncertain glance down at me, he led the way. The Vikings adjusted their course accordingly.

The King sat down at my side, eyes locked on the Color-Shifter.

For a long time, the floating-trees were silent, save for the gentle waves of the ocean and whistle of the wind. I rested my head on my paws, my eyes heavy. I had to keep up my strength—but I would be damned if I fell asleep while Hiccup struggled out in this cold, dark sea, so close and yet so far.

“What will I say to him?”

I blinked drowsily, glancing at the King. His shoulders were drooping and his face was cast in shadows. He stared avidly at his paws. Then, realizing that he was expecting me to respond, I made a general sort of “confused noise” and tipped my head to the side.

He gave a deep breath, looking back up at the stars and the vivid Color-Shifter. “A simple apology isn’t enough. I hurt him, when I promised him I never would again.”

“You aren’t giving Hiccup enough credit,” I said. I shuffled around and hesitated.

Before I could lose my nerve, I shifted closer and rubbed my cheek against his arm.

The King stiffened. After a moment, he raised his paw, letting it rest on my forehead.

We sat in silence. Eventually, I lay my head down again, the King’s paw still a warm pressure between my ears.

The lull of the ocean waves and the soft wind made my eyes heavy. I struggled to stay alert as my vision unfocused, as the odd calmness began to overtake me...

I didn’t realize that I had begun to doze off until I was snapped awake by a distant shout.

“Hiccup?!” I gasped, jolted upright. The King flinched.

Not a breath later, the Color-Shifter swooped over the floating-trees, his fire glowing between his fangs.

“I see humans!” He snarled. “The very same ones that have plagued my nest! We should strike them at once, Savior! Quickly, please!”

“Hold on!” I said, lurching into a sitting position. “We’re looking for _Hiccup_ , not a fight. Where are they?”

He threw his head out towards the open ocean.

I couldn’t see anything from here—they were too far out. The sky was dotted with clouds, the ocean vast and unmarred by islands. Thank the Dragoness of the Moon, there was no fog.

“What is it?!” The King asked, hope filling his voice.

I shrugged and asked the Color-Shifter, “Are they near where you lost Hiccup?”

He shook his head. “I am uncertain. We are close, but I do not know if it was exactly there. Regardless, those humans deserve to sink below the ocean, where the gods cannot see them.”

“Hold on,” I repeated. “Camouflage yourself and fly out to them. Try to see if they have Hiccup or your nestmates, and then _come back_ before you do anything.” I narrowed my eyes. “As Savior, that is an order. Do not attack them without reporting back to me!”

He threw his head with a snort. “Very well, Savior.”

The Color-Shifter melted from sight.

I remained pessimistic. Hiccup had been traveling with _dragons_ , not humans. Why would he be with some? Regardless, I could only hope the Color-Shifter actually listened to me. If he attacked some random humans in blind rage, we would lose our only lead. As much as he was an unlikable idiot, he was a _necessary_ unlikable idiot.

We waited. An eternity seemed to pass.

I was beginning to curse the damn fool when, _finally_ , I heard the sound of frantic flapping.

The Color-Shifter materialized above once more and plopped onto the floating-tree, panting for breath. A few humans were too close in his comfort zone, and he growled at them until they backed off.

“Savior…” He shook his head, wings and tail drooping. “We were…we were wrong. I am so sorry. Please forgive us, Savior. Please forgive us.”

The world seemed to stop around me. “W-what?” I breathed.

He lifted his head to look at me, and the broken and distraught glint in his eyes made me sway with fear.

“The human Savior,” he breathed. “He’s there. He’s on those human devices, but he’s—he’s taken by the song, Savior. I heard him singing. He’s lost to us.”

My heart flew to life. Within a single breath, I was more awake than I had been in days, filled with life as if the soulfire had never afflicted me.

Hiccup.

They had Hiccup. They had Hiccup.

“Let’s go!” I snarled, launching at the wings of the floating-tree. I clambered on top and craned my neck down.

The King met my eyes, both alarmed and hopeful.

I nodded to him and threw my head back the way the Color-Shifter had come. Without waiting a second longer, I turned out to the ocean and opened my wings.

“S-Savior, wait!”

“Fire! Now!” I ordered. Without waiting, I leapt off the floating-tree and above the pitch-black ocean.

He did as he was told, sending a thick stream underneath me that allowed me to rise far up into the air. With a flurry of wingbeats, the Color-Shifter rose to my side, his eyes huge with fear. “Savior, please, there is no saving him! Trust me, I have seen too many of my own fall into the same trap! We need to tell the King!”

I leered at him, flapping as fast as I could to accelerate. “How many floating-trees are there? How many humans?”

“This is folly!” He growled. “I cannot sit idly by as you fly to your own death!”

I immediately lost my patience. “Answer my questions!” I roared. “I command you!”

The Color-Shifter raised a lip to show teeth. “Two,” he spat. “Two human contraptions, with many more much further out. I don’t know how many humans there are.”

I spared a moment to consider our options.

“Alright,” I said. “I will strike first. In the confusion, _you_ need to grab Hiccup and fly away as fast as possible.”

“And be taken up in the song?” The Color-Shifter demanded. “This is suicide, Savior!”

“Very well. Then I will strike first and get him.” I glanced behind me back at the floating-trees. “The humans will not be close enough at this rate, but…but…”

Something directly above the floating-trees caught my eyes. I snapped my head up just in time to see a flicker of color dart between the clouds, much higher than we were flying.

“Did you see that?”

The Color-Shifter was staring upwards as well, his anger replaced by apprehension. “They didn’t look like…” He trailed off, his jaw set. “I will be right back, Savior.”

With a quick flutter, he lifted himself up into the canopy of clouds, melting into them like a raindrop into a lake.

I let him go with a snort. Whatever it was, the Color-Shifter could investigate it. I had much more important matters to attend to.

Taken up in the song or not, I was getting my brother back. And I would scream at him until my breath left me to snap him out of it.

With a growl, I shifted my tail and began to pump my wings as fast as I could. The air immediately became a physical enemy, throwing me back and forth. I rocked wildly, just barely keeping myself from tipping over. It was reckless and _stupid_ , charging unsteadily over a black ocean with the only dragon who could help me out of sight.

But it got me to the floating-trees within minutes.

I flared my wings and let myself gradually slow down, returning to a slow and silent gliding position.

Two floating-trees, the silhouettes of several more out on the horizon. Fire dotted the wooden platforms, held up on sticks in the paws of humans. There was a big crowd of them, and just beside them were _dragons._

Even from here, I could hear that damned song. Loss. Emptiness. Hiccup.

_Hiccup!_

My heart leapt into my throat. Everything fell away—the cold, the unstable air, the song, the danger.

He was there. He was there! Hiccup was there! I could see him!

 _Oh, gods! Oh, gods!_ I nearly wept. _Oh, please, please—!_

I threw my wings down, rushing forward as fast as I could. Thirty seconds. It would take me thirty seconds to get there. Thirty seconds to dive. Thirty seconds to blast those damned humans to pieces. Thirty seconds to bring him back to me.

It wasn’t enough.

Just as I sped up, the humans threw themselves at my brother.

“ _NO!_ ” I screamed in horror and outrage, filling my throat with gas.

And at the very same moment, a familiar voice shrieked, “No, _wait!_ ”

A blurred form whistled right past me, diving from above. An explosion hit the floating-tree and sent brilliant orange flames spiraling into the sky.

The Color-Shifter appeared at my side. “My apologies, Savior! There were too many of them for me to control!”

“ _Too many?!_ ” I gasped. “What do you—”

Right on que, Stormfly banked around me with—with—

“See! I can help!” She bragged. “All of us can!”

Perched on her back, eyes wide with terror, just barely hanging on and soaked to the bones, _Astrid_ shrieked, “Toothless, make her _stop!_ ”

Of all the times for that yearling to disobey me—!

Gods damn it, there was no time!

“Help me get Hiccup!” I commanded, pulling my wings in and diving.

Fire blazed across the floating-tree, sending humans scurrying about  desperately trying to smother it. In all the chaos, I spotted Hiccup...just as he thrust his paws into the fire.

“ _HICCUP!_ ” I screamed.

He jolted and looked up in shock, his eyes huge and intelligent and aware. “ _Toothless?_ ” He mouthed, amazed.

Our eyes met.

That very same flicker from before burst to life, filled with joy and relief.

“ _TOOTHLESS!_ ” Hiccup cried. He wrenched his paws from the fire and snapped a now-flaming rope off of his wrists.

He hadn’t even taken a single step before a black-furred human burst from the flames.Hiccup jolted away, but the human was too fast, snatching him up in his claws.

But _I_ was even faster.

With a snarl, I sent a fireblast just above the floating-tree. The force of the explosion sent any nearby human reeling, some even slipping and falling. Not a moment later, I ripped my wings open and threw my tail down.

I hit the floating-tree hard and rolled. Without wasting a second, I gathered my feet underneath me, let loose a shriek that would send the dead fleeing, and charged—

The human met my eyes, holding a wildly-struggling Hiccup in one paw and a sword to his throat in the other.

Explosions burst around us. Shrapnel and embers stung at my hide. All three of us stood as still as if we had been frozen.

“Well,” the human said breathlessly. “Now _that’s_ what I call proof.”

I roared and lunged. Hiccup ripped himself free.

The human turned and ran, disappearing into the rising, charcoal-black smoke that was starting to consume the floating-tree.

“ _Up up up up up!_ ” I hollered, nearly knocking Hiccup over in my haste. He wasted not a breath, throwing himself onto my back.

I crouched and threw myself into the air. The updrafts filled my wings.

“Darts! NOW!” A female human shouted.

“ _No!_ ” Hiccup gasped, leaning far to the side. I twisted in the direction as fast as I could.

Several small, colorful woodclaws shot just past me. Hiccup threw his weight aside again, and I followed without hesitation. More flew right past.

“FIRE!”

“ _Roll!_ ” Hiccup screeched, pulling to the left.

I gave a sharp twist, steering my tail to the side. The updrafts began to throw us aside, tipping us backwards towards the floating-trees. Hiccup continued pushing his weight to the side, and I followed through. We spun completely around just as a net swooped past us, mere feet from tangling in my wings.

It smacked right into the Color-Shifter as he dove for another strike. He gave a terrified shriek and fell. Humans swarmed him like ants, even as Stormfly and whipped right past him.

Three more dragons followed her, and I almost groaned with dismay. It was one thing for Stormfly to disobey as per the usual—but the others?

“ _Look out!_ ” Hiccup suddenly shouted, pulling as hard as he could to the side.

A great force slammed into me, wrapping around my wings and tail. With two horrified shouts, we were yanked from the sky, dragged down by another net.

The impact was painful—not that I cared. The moment we landed, I shot my fire in the general direction of “in front of me”, where it blazed through the net and smashed into a piece of the floating-tree. Hiccup threw the net off of our heads and began to rip it off of my wings and paws.

The humans that remained shouted and sprinted towards us. Stormfly swooped upon them, breathing a stream of fire to block their path while Astrid just barely managed to hold on. She flapped right back out of sight, the poor human on her back screaming ignored commands. Right at her tail, the yearling Hookfang darted to the side of the floating-tree, flinging his fire into the waters.

“This is _not_ how I imagined this going,” Hiccup grunted, yanking the rope from of my midsection.

I snorted in agreement and wriggled my way out more, leaving the net only tangled up in my tail. “I was expecting more hugs and less fire. But I’m not going to complain for once!” I threw my tail around back and forth—only for it to pass over some stray fires, sending the net up in flames.

“ _No!_ ” Hiccup squeaked, rushing to untangle it more. “ _Your tailfin!_ ”

My tailfin? It would be fine, it was—oh. _Oh!_

“Damn!” I cursed, flinging my tail back and forth and smacking a couple of humans in the process. The net burned a second longer, and I flung it off as enough of it fizzled away. “ _Okay, up! Up! Up!_ ”

Except Hiccup _didn’t_ get on. Instead, he faced the group of humans pinning the Color-Shifter. He sent me The Look—the “I’ve set my mind to this and will not change it for anything” one that we _really_ did not need right now.

As loathed as I was to stay a moment longer, he was right; we couldn’t simply abandon the Color-Shifter here, to be tortured and killed by human paws.

The Color-Shifter was merely a winglength away. I filtered gas into my throat, ready to send the humans to a quick, fiery demise.

“ENOUGH!”

Everyone whipped towards the voice. Silence fell upon the brief battle, the only sound punctuating the stillness being the fire eating away at the floating-tree and the lapping of the ocean waves.

The black-furred human had returned—and in his paws, he held two dragons captive in ropes. _Song_ dragons.

My eyes settled on the elder Hum-Wing, and a cold rush of horror swept upon me. My mouth fell open, despair darkening the world around me as I stared straight into the soulless, pitiless truth of what I had done to our nestmates.

Already I could feel the toll of the song on me—a kind of cloudiness of my thoughts.

Hiccup launched himself at me and clamped his paws around my head, covering my ears to muffle the sound. I grit my teeth as it vibrated through the air, still a physical thing despite the aid.

“ _Coward!_ ” I hissed, raising my wings. “Release her!”

“What are you doing?!” Hiccup gasped, anger creeping into his own voice at seeing our elder used as a pawn. “Leave them alone! They can’t even fight back!”

‘Eret’ glared. His eyes flicked upwards at our looming nestmates above. “But _they_ can.”

He slapped the other singing dragon with his paw. The poor thing gave a sharp screech, flying up into the air—and straight towards Stormfly and the others.

I only saw them for a split second. Stormfly and Meatlug both had their humans on their backs, and the other two were carrying theirs. Both human and dragon froze as the song dragon launched straight towards them.

“Stormfly, Hookfang, fly away!” I commanded.

They scattered, desperate to distance themselves. Astrid gave a sharp cry that quickly faded.

‘Eret’ took hold of the distraction, placing himself just behind the elder so that I could not shoot my fire at him without burning the elder as well. “ _You two_ will be coming with me!” The human commanded. “Or I’ll just set this one up right next to your friends, starting with _that_ one.” With that, he pointed.

The Color-Shifter was pinned down at damn near every joint, his snout wrapped up so tight that he could not open it and his wings and tail crushed underneath human paws. He looked between the human and the singing elder. His eyes filled with terror.

“No!” Hiccup gasped. “Look, you don’t understand— _whatever_ that is, we don’t have anything to do with it!”

‘Eret’ grinned. “Well, then, it seems we’re on the same page here!”

I shook my head to block out the sound, snarling. Hiccup’s grip tightened, offering a little more relief.

“If we really are, then just _listen_ for a second!” Hiccup hissed, his voice seeping with frustration. “Please, just—just put her somewhere safe, and we can _talk_ about this. We don’t have to fight.”

The human frowned almost like he was considering it. “Sorry, lad. Don’t take this too personally.”

With a shove, he began to take the elder even closer to us. We were only a short distance from the Color-Shifter, meaning that the closer he took the elder towards him, the closer _we_ were to the song. I clenched my teeth against the onslaught of disorientation, the fuzziness of my thoughts, the way it seemed to sweep away the entire world under a fog. Even Hiccup seemed to sway a little, clinging to me like my very life depended on it.

The Color-Shifter brought me out of it with a muffled squeal. He writhed around with eyes flashing and smoke pluming between his lips. His eyes never left the elder, so huge and terrified that it made him look like a fledgling.

“ _No!_ ” Hiccup shouted. His voice seemed further away, his paws clenched around me hardly there. “Stop! Just _wait!_ ”

“So will you come peacefully?” ‘Eret’ asked. “Or do I need to force your hand even further?”

“You don’t need to _capture_ us,” Hiccup growled. “We can work this out together—but I can tell you right now, that if you trap us, if you go through with this, then we won’t do _anything_ to help you.”

The whole world blanked out. I lurched in place, blinking rapidly as everything around suddenly seemed...not there. Gone. With great effort, I forced myself to focus, to meet that damned human’s eyes and let loose a shamefully-frightened snarl.

If Hiccup let me go, even at this range...

‘Eret’ seemed to come to the same realization as myself, baring his teeth in a disgusting smile. “ _Help_ me? Don’t get me wrong, lad, but I think the one you should _really_ be trying to help is your friend there.”

He glanced behind us and nodded.

I heard Hiccup’s cry of pain first, quickly followed by what felt like a lightning-strike in my side.

By the time I’d whipped around, Hiccup had already grabbed the little woodclaw and ripped it out of my hide. He then twisted and did the same for himself.

Nausea came first. Then disorientation. I swayed where I stood, my ears and side-frills vibrating in-tune with the song. Hiccup leaned heavily against me, no longer covering my ears but using me as a support.

A moment passed—we were on the ground—how did we…?

“Coward,” I murmured, dragging my wing over Hiccup. “You coward…”

“Alright, lads, we’ve done it! Now get those two away from each other before it actually does some damage!” ‘Eret’ ordered, his voice drifting further away. “And get those Sharkworms moving, we got a lot of ground to cover and we need to get out of here before…”

**o.O.o**

Everything was foggy.

It was a choking, muffling hold, clamping tight on my ears to dissipate sound and filling my mouth and nose. My body was as heavy and inflexible as stone, leaving me frozen in place.

The ground was lurching up and down. Every now and then something creaked and moaned, echoing hauntingly throughout the cavern. Judging from the sounds of them, the area was very large. Dull thumps came from above, like distant thunder out over the ocean.

At the very end of the cavern, I could hear it—I could hear _them._

I squeezed my eyes shut in a futile attempt to block it out. Yet the sound was intoxicating, drawing my attention ever closer into its midst. The more I tried to ignore it, the more it snatched up my attention, dominating my every thought. Everything else seemed to melt away in its presence. It swallowed me up like a wave cresting overhead, taking me up into its sheer, lonely, hollow _emptiness_.

It was so consuming that I didn’t hear the voice besides me for a long time.

“ _Toothless?_ ” He whimpered, his voice seeping with dread. _“Please, Toothless, please listen to me! Please no! Please no!”_

The hum died in my throat.

“ _H-Hiccup?_ ” I whispered, eyelids fluttering.

A metallic clang rang far too close to my ear. I flinched away, hissing as my head began to pound.

“ _Toothless? Toothless!_ ” Hiccup half-sobbed with relief. “Oh, thank gods, I thought you were—I thought— _Toothless!_ ”

Well, _now_ I was awake.

“ _Hiccup!_ ” I snapped a paw out into the sheer darkness hanging about us and immediately felt the cold burn of metal. A cage. Shifting around, I could feel that my wings and tailfins had been clamped shut with rope, and there was one tied around my neck as well.

Hiccup’s voice was coming from my direct right, but I couldn’t see or hear or smell anything else. I pressed up against the wall, squeezing my nose through the small holes in the front of my cage. In a more soothing tone, “ _Me here!_ _It is fine, me here, it is fine._ ”

Hiccup let out a humorless, breathless laugh. There was some scrabbling on his end, and his voice became much closer, tight with pain and joy. “ _Me miss you so much! Me so worried and scared for you!_ ”

“ _Me too!_ ” I breathed, cramming myself up against the cage. “ _Me...me think…me think me never see you again.”_ My voice began to shudder. _“Me…me no know where you_ go, _and us nestmates search you, but no know where_ nestmates _go, and me so scared and worried and_ stupid _and—_ ”

“ _No, Toothless, no no no_ ,” Hiccup murmured. “ _You no wrong. Me so sorry, Toothless. This me fault…_ ”

“ _Stupid!_ ” I scolded. Hiccup gave that wheezing laugh again.

“ _This bad, but…_ ” Hiccup chuckled uneasily. “ _Me…me so happy you here, Toothless._ ”

“ _Me too_ ,” I admitted, feeling more guilty for _not_ feeling guilty. I shoved my paw through the cage and tapped my claws against the metallic ground.

Hiccup brushed his paw against mine and then grabbed on tight, squeezing my paw in his. I twisted my own paw around to do the same, holding on to him as tight as I could without injuring him.

The song dragons droned on. Somehow, it was much easier to push the song away.

“ _Love you_ ,” we both choked to each other.

This time, our hold would stay strong.

Nothing would rip us apart again.


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long!! I will try to respond to the comments later, but I appreciate them all so much--thank you to everyone who has left one!

 

**Chapter 16**

Astrid

The net flew past us into the darkness. Stormfly swerved away. My fingers began to slip, and I clamped onto her even tighter than before, no matter how sore my legs were.

Great Thor, I was going to kill her. Only that was assuming I actually _survived_ this.

“Stormfly! Up!” I shouted, my voice raspy and hoarse from the smoke. I tried to glance down at the burning ship, but Stormfly decided to do a random spin.

Sharp whistles raced past—darts. They were shooting _darts_ at us.

Stormfly lunged to the side. Hookfang barreled past with more nets on his tail, Snotlout grasped in his talons and screaming.

He spotted me and pointed an accusing finger. “For the record, I blame you for this!” Hookfang suddenly dove, shooting fire in front of him and into the ocean. “ _Ah! Hookfang!_ At least aim for something _important!_ ”

Hookfang whirled away, rising back up into smoke cloud. Stormfly followed, and we were met with the sights of Meatlug and Barf and Belch.

“This is bad!” Fishlegs whimpered atop Meatlug. “I saw Hiccup! We gotta help him!”

“Help _him?_ ” Snotlout shouted. “What about helping _us!_ If ya haven’t noticed, we _kinda_ got kidnapped by our dragons!”

“Is it really kidnapping if you’re having fun, though?” Tuffnut asked, looking completely relaxed even though he was dangling by his legs from the Zippleback’s talons.

Ruffnut was in the same position, letting her legs and arms fall limp. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick…why’d you teach Stormfly to do that, Astrid?”

“I _didn’t!_ ” I snapped. “You guys saw what happened!”

Everything had been going surprisingly well. I should have been suspicious, honestly. We had been watching the ships depart. Toothless had done some cool tricks with the other dragon to get up into the air. There was hope that they would find Hiccup.

Then Stormfly had decided to be just as much an overachiever as I was, snatching me up in her teeth, literally throwing me on her back, and taking off after the ships as fast as she could.

Hookfang, always one to imitate his playmate, had been all for grabbing Snotlout and carrying him off, too. Fishlegs and Meatlug had scrambled around and eventually set off to _help_ us, but Meatlug was too slow with the added weight. I was pretty sure Tuffnut and Ruffnut were just coming along for the ride.

So we had flown for _hours_ , Stormfly and Hookfang ignoring every command to turn back and Meatlug and Barf and Belch struggling to keep up with them. Our dumb dragons had made sure to hide within the clouds—leading to the _wonderful_ discovery that clouds were made of very, _very_ cold water—and far above Toothless and the other dragon.

Now it was pitch-black, the Bog Burglar’s huge and expensive ship was going up in flames, Hiccup and Toothless were trapped on it and under attack, the Chief’s fleet was too far away to help, the other dragon was captured, and to top it all off, a _freaking armada_ was sailing towards us.

I was a little frazzled.

Stormfly squeaked. She clutched her wings in, and I’d barely had time to hold on for my life before she zoomed right back towards the ship, spraying fire everywhere. I caught sight of Toothless and Hiccup—both of them glancing up at us with shocked, amazed eyes—and then back up we went.

“Stormfly, _no!_ ” I shouted. “Grab Hiccup! Just _grab_ him!”

She flew in a wide circle instead. Hookfang breathed some more fire at the ocean. Meatlug and Barf and Belch were actually _trying_ to help, but the people aboard the ship had figured that out and were targeting them the most.

From below, a man commanded at the top of his lungs, “ENOUGH!”

The catapults stopped, the men quieting.

The man was obviously the leader, glancing around with calculating eyes. He was holding two dragons with some rope. Hiccup lunged at Toothless and wrapped his arms around his head, and then immediately began talking to him in a frantic, half-pleading, half-commanding tone.

I squinted at the dragons. Were they…tame? One of them seemed familiar, almost. With a small gasp, I realized the familiar one was the older Gronckle that occasionally chewed Toothless out for one thing or another.

Toothless screeched with indignation at the very same time I realized: there was a reason the scouting parties hadn’t returned. They _wouldn’t_ return, and I was looking straight at the person responsible for it.

The man looked up and met my eyes. With a slap on the rear, the other dragon—another Nadder—came flinging towards us. It was making the exact same sounds Stormfly had earlier.

Toothless gave a sharp, wheezing whine. All of our dragons scrambled away, flinging themselves high up towards the clouds.

“Wait!” I cried, struggling to hold on and trying in vain to pull Stormfly’s head back down towards the ships. “We have to help—we gotta get them out of there! Stormfly, turn around—”

I looked down just in time to see the men aboard the ship hit Hiccup and Toothless dead-on with some darts. Both of them jolted. Hiccup ripped the dart out of Toothless and then did the same for himself.

Both of them swayed and fell limp to the burning deck, Toothless trying desperately to curl around Hiccup in his final waking moments. They were surrounded by men with nets and ropes in seconds.

The remaining warriors faced us, aiming catapults and darts in our direction: a promise of suffering the same fate if we were stupid enough to dive.

I felt the blood drain from my face. “Oh, gods,” I whispered. I glanced over at the others.

Snotlout’s anger had faded to terror, and he looked at me almost pleadingly, like he hoped I could come up with a plan. Fishlegs was frozen, eyes wide. Even the twins had lost their good humor, faces blank with shock and fear.

We had to choose.

“We gotta—we gotta do something!” Snotlout growled. “Hookfang, get down there! Blow ‘em up!”

My breath hitched painfully in my chest. I clenched my teeth so hard they ached and felt my forehead wrinkle with anger.

Gods damn it.

“No,” I ground out, holding a hand up. “There’s too many—we’ll just be caught, too, and nobody will know.”

Snotlout gaped at me in disbelief. Fishlegs hung his head with sad acceptance. The twins shared an uncertain look.

“ _Astrid!_ ” Snotlout scolded. “Are you seriously telling me you wanna _give up?!_ ”

“No!” I growled. “But _look_ at them! The Chief doesn’t know about these people _or_ that we’re here!”

The readied warriors continued to keep their sights on us even as the ships exploded into chaos. Men and women scrambling to get on the other ship, some dragging Hiccup, Toothless, and the colorful dragon and and some carrying their wounded. The ship they were boarding was even bigger than the Bog Burglar’s, huge and imposing with multiple sails and metal reinforcements. There would be no sinking that thing—especially with Hiccup and Toothless unconscious aboard.

I desperately wracked my brain for an idea— _any_ idea. We couldn’t just _leave_ them! But diving with that many people down there would get us in the same position! I would _not_ get all of us in trouble again, especially when there was a high chance that someone could get seriously hurt. We would be no use to Hiccup and Toothless then.

Stormfly whined, fluttering above the armed men and keening when they shifted their crossbows and catapults to follow her. She glanced over her shoulder at me.

“We’ll have to…we gotta…” I struggled. “We...we have to split up. Some of us go get the Chief, and the rest of us tail them—”

“Oh, no,” Fishlegs moaned. “Look!”

He pointed at the water.

Just beneath them, there was a sharp glimmering of silver and ebony-black. Metal chains attached to…

“Are those… _dragons?_ ” Ruffnut asked in disbelief.

Tuffnut snorted. “They look like fancy fish.”

“Sharkworms,” Fishlegs breathed. “Medium-sized sea dragons. Strength 25. Speed 30. Poison 10.”

“What does that nerd stuff even mean?!” Snotlout yelled.

Fishlegs’ reply was swallowed by a series of sharp, piercing rings that went straight into my head. Men were hitting chains hanging off the ship with hammers. Just in the ocean’s depths, huge black and white creatures with fins and powerful tails lingered at the surface.

The ocean began to boil with writhing patches of bubbles. Twelve white, foamy trails burst from the inky waters. They moved far ahead of the ship in a pointed formation, the chains attached to the ship rattling and dipping deeper and deeper out of sight. The foam trails merged into one massive, expanding current that roared over and around the ship.

The chains clanged and went taut.

The ship lunged forward like an arrow straight towards the imposing armada on the horizon. Everyone on board stumbled—except for their leader.

I had never seen something sail faster in my entire life. It was like a ship made of wind, racing effortlessly along the clouds. No crew could maintain that kind of speed for longer than a few minutes—but that was no normal crew pulling it forward.

My jaw dropped, horror making my limbs go rigid, my _stupid_ plan dying away as fast as I had thrown it together. In just a few moments, the ship was already a huge distance away, leaving a glowing wake in its path.

There was no keeping up with that. Even if we did split up, the Chief and the detached group would have no clue where to go. The group trailing the ships would be long-gone, with no clue of where they went.

Stormfly gave a lost, keening whine. The other dragons did the same.

“Well, c’mon, let’s go!” Snotlout shouted. “Look at how fast that freaking thing is going! We gotta go, _now!_ ”

He tried to urge Hookfang ahead, but the Nightmare’s eyes were locked downwards. I followed his gaze hopefully, searching the ocean below in desperation. The other ship was sinking, her hull filled with water from all the explosions. No dragon or man had been left behind, all of them loaded onto the other ship.

Except for…

Hope lifted my heart. “There!” I gasped. I patted Stormfly to get her attention and pointed.

Stormfly perked up. She swooped down upon the burning remains of the ship. With one foot, she flung the wooden beam off of them—and with the other, she took them up in her talons.

The ship moaned. The fire blazed so hot that sweat dripped down my face.

“Let’s go, girl!” I said.

Stormfly wasted no time. She took off just as the deck imploded, its wood splintering and waterlogged. With a final, mournful moan, the ship dipped underwater. There was a roiling spray of bubbles, and the fire lighting the night smoldered out. The darkness was sudden and cold, leaving me blinking rapidly, blind and disorientated.

“Ugh, who is _that?_ ” Ruffnut groaned as we leveled out.

“Altruism. _Gross!_ ” Tuffnut complained.

“Our new informant,” I answered, ignoring Tuffnut. “Now come on, we gotta tell the Chief before they sail right into that armada.”

From this high up, it was easy to spot the Chief’s ships. The sails glowed just on the horizon, tiny beacons of hope. They had done a pretty good job at catching up...meaning that, soon, the armada would spot them.

“I still say we follow them and fight!” Snotlout said, pounding a fist in his palm. “They won’t know what hit ‘em!”

“No!” Fishlegs said. With a defeated sigh, he said, “Astrid’s right. If we go at them now, we’ll all be captured. Meatlug, can you lead the way?”

The Gronckle drooped. She grunted at the others and twisted around, buzzing back towards the Chief’s fleet. For once, Stormfly and Hookfang had no problem following, both of them casting furtive glances behind us.

In the wake of everything, with everyone focused ahead, I let myself hunch over, shrinking to half my size.

I’d failed them. They’d needed me, I had been there, and I had _failed_ them. If I’d just been faster, if I’d just gotten Stormfly to _listen_ , if I’d just come up with a plan earlier, then we could have saved them.

This failure was my fault. As much as I hated it, I was the “leader” of our group. It was my responsibility to be able to handle these situations.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I twisted around to see how far out the ship was, hoping uselessly that it had somehow slowed down and that there was still a chance that we could save them.

It was already gone.

**o.O.o**

“You let them take Hiccup _and_ Toothless?!”

I hung my head under the Chief’s furious glare.

“I’m sorry, Chief,” I said. “There were too many people—we almost got captured ourselves.”

“Yeah, it was really intense!” Tuffnut laughed, only to grunt when Ruffnut shoved his helmet down over his head.

“C-Chief, they were using Sharkworms,” Fishlegs stammered. “They had a whole team tied to their ship. We would have never been able to keep up, not at the speed they got to.”

“Speaking of keeping up, can we _please_ have some ropes so we can hold on?” Snotlout groaned, rubbing his back. “It hurts like hell to be carried around.”

The Chief took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Gobber was at his side, tying up our new friend that we’d snatched off the sinking ship.

“Eh, put a sock in it!” He growled. “The lot ‘a you are goin’ to hear it when we get back! We told ya to _stay_ on Berk!”

“It wasn’t exactly voluntary…” Fishlegs mumbled.

“Stormfly kinda snatched me and flew off. The same goes for the others,” I explained. “I’m really sorry, Chief.”

The Chief was silent. He took a deep breath. Eventually, he fixed me with a stern look at said, “You need to learn to control your dragons. We _need_ you on Berk. But now’s not the time for this.”

He faced our prisoner.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Bertha?”

She coughed, her hair dripping over her face and her eyes burning. “I won’t tell _you_ anythin’,” she growled. She spat at the Chief’s feet.

The Chief raised a brow.

“Oh ho ho ho!” Gobber chuckled.

Five minutes later, the Chief had somehow convinced Hookfang to dunk Bertha of the Bog Burglars over the edge of the ship, holding her underwater for a few seconds at a time.

Hookfang lifted her up just enough so that she could breathe and shot Snotlout one very confused look. Snotlout was laughing so hard he could barely get ahold of himself. He patted the Nightmare until he sent Bertha back down again.

A few minutes of that passed, until…

“ _ALRIGHT!_ ” Bertha howled after one of the longer punishments, spluttering and shivering. “Fer Thor’s sake, _alright!_ ”

“That’s enough, Snotlout,” the Chief grunted.

“Aww,” Snotlout, Tuffnut, and Ruffnut whined. Snotlout pulled back on Hookfang’s neck, and the dragon swung her around and threw her back on the deck.

She lied there, soaked and trembling and coughing. Stormfly, Meatlug, and Barf and Belch all lifted their wings and hissed at her. Hookfang helped himself to a drink of water, only to spit it out when he realized it was salt water.

“I knew it,” Bertha wheezed, shrinking against the deck but keeping her head high. “I _knew_ Berk had dragons on it.”

“Yeah,” Gobber said with a shrug.

Bertha growled with frustration. “Is it a _game_ to ya people to go out’a yer way to _annoy_ me?”

“Sure is!” Ruffnut chirped. “We even got a tally going!”

“Don’t expect an apology!” Tuffnut added.

The Chief unsheathed his sword and stood tall over her. “You have one more chance to tell us what you know.”

Bertha sneered, sitting up and trying to blow her hair back into place. “Or what?”

“I will strip you of your weapons and throw you overboard, where you will sink and drown. A shameful death for the Chief of a seafaring tribe.”

His cold words rang with truth. The ocean churned around us. The dragons rumbled, a guttural sound low in their chests.

Sitting in the shadow of Stoick the Vast, Bertha’s defiant expression gave way to fear.

“Ya—ya need me,” she stammered. “Ya won’t know where yer demon son is without me.”

“We found him once, we’ll find him again,” the Chief said. “If you choose to stay quiet, then so be it. Your death will be in vain.”

The Chief was deadly serious, his eyes burning with untapped rage just itching to be set loose. I shot a wide-eyed look at the others.

Bertha was just as flabbergasted. In this game of wits, she had lost—and she knew it.

“Do you want to live or not?” The Chief demanded.

Bertha didn’t respond, staring up at in him in search of a bluff.

She hung her head.

The Chief’s stern voice lit up into something furious and vengeful, and he growled just a menacingly as the dragons, “Then tell us what you know.”

For a long moment, she was quiet. I almost began to think that she’d changed her mind and was waiting for her slow and painful death.

Bertha hunched over, her shoulders jutting out, and heaved with a weak, dry laugh. She raised her head, her hair still dripping and plastered across her face, and bared her teeth in a gruesome grin.

“Drago Bludvist.”

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

The song was a haunting, mournful phantom, drifting over us and reminding us it was there at every turn.

We blocked it out in every way we could. We never let go of each other, grasping so tight it was almost painful. In an effort to never let it get to us—and more importantly, _Toothless_ —we spoke constantly, expanding my vocabulary as we went. Among words, we finally got down verb tenses, which opened up our communication much more than I imagined.

“ _The singing dragons do not talk_ ,” Toothless was confirming to me, his voice just a bit strained. “ _Stormfly was singing dragon, but Astrid helped her._ ”

“ _So no always,_ ” I murmured in shocked relief. “ _We can help them._ ”

“ _No, Hiccup, us help_ us. _Then us nestmates, and then singing dragons._ ”

“ _I know!_ ” I groaned in exasperation. “ _But other King needs us help. All his young are gone._ ”

“ _I know_ ,” Toothless sighed, squeezing my hand tighter. “ _But that King stupid._ ”

“ _That_ _King_ scared,” I corrected. Toothless snorted.

A moment of silence passed between us. The singing reverberated.

Toothless tensed and growled. We didn’t let it last a moment longer.

“ _Hiccup…us fledglings…us nestmates…_ ”

Toothless shuddered and took in a deep breath. I squeezed his paw, purring soothingly.

“ _They are gone_ ,” he whispered. “ _No everyone, but many, many us nestmates._ ”

My breath left me like I’d smashed into the ground from a high fall. “ _No…_ ”

“ _I’m sorry, Hiccup_ ,” Toothless whimpered. His voice shook with pain and guilt, and he almost sobbed, “ _I’m so, so,_ so _sorry. I am like King…I’m so stupid and bad King and—”_

“ _Shh, Toothless_ ,” I interrupted, holding him tighter. “ _It is fine. I’m not mad, okay? We save us nestmates, okay?_ ”

“ _Okay,_ ” he breathed.

We lapsed into another short silence as I tried to process the news. All of our young were gone. The song had taken them, and we had no idea how to fix it—even if I had just promised to do so. Our nest was dangerously low in numbers and both of us were gone, leaving it with no leaders and vulnerable to attack. They didn’t have their Kings to protect them, except for…

I bit my lip. Anxiety pulsed from my heart.

“ _Me…is father…okay?_ ”

Toothless purred soothingly just like I had a moment before. “ _He is very very scared,_ ” he said in a gentle voice. “ _He is worried and sad and miss you._ ”

I had expected it, but still the words were a solid impact straight to my gut. I swallowed, scrubbing at my eyes with my other hand. Despite everything, I missed him, too—and he didn’t even know it. He probably thought I _hated_ him, that I wanted nothing to do with him…

_You’re not a dragon anymore!_

“ _He…no mad?_ ”

“ _No!_ ” Toothless snorted like that was ridiculous. “ _No, no. He think he is stupid. He no mad at you, he mad at mad him._ ”

Toothless meant that to be comforting, but hearing that only made the guilt plaguing me worse. I drooped under the weight of it. Of course. Of course he was mad at himself. Of course he was blaming himself.

He had never said that to hurt me—I knew that. I _knew_ that. He’d said it to protect me, but instead…instead the feelings of betrayal still lingered as a dull ache, even when part of me knew it wasn’t right.

 _“I feel so bad_ ,” I admitted. “ _I...I’m sad and confused and…and_ angry, _but that no fair to him._ ”

“ _But him no fair to_ you _, too_ ,” Toothless said. He sighed. “ _All us…all us need to talk. And_ listen. _Your father…_ ”

I curled up closer to the cage, grateful that he couldn’t see my pained expression. “ _He wasn’t wrong,_ ” I finished.

It was no use hiding from Toothless; he heard the hollow sadness in my voice right away. “ _It is fine_ ,” he comforted. “You _are fine. I love you. And your father love you, too. That is what is important._ ”

“ _But…but what..._ ” I began, grasping at thin air for the right words. “ _What_ me?”

“ _You brother_ ,” Toothless said. “ _You King. You Savior._ ”

“ _But…_ ”

The song bounced across the room.

“ _Human?_ ” I asked. “ _Dragon?_ ”

The ground lurched underneath us. Both Toothless and I cried out as we were flung forward, but neither of us let go, even as the ship shifted around so much that the both of us were sliding around.

Toothless cursed something along the lines of, “ _what the ever-loving hell was_ that?! _”_

We fell silent, clutching at each other and breathless with anticipation.

The door screeched open, sending in beams of light that stabbed at my eyes. I hissed, ducking my head and squinting.

Footsteps. A shadow stretched grotesquely across the light.

“Well, isn’t that cute?” Eret said with a grin.

I glared. Toothless snarled.

Several men rushed past their leader. There was a high-pitched clinging of trembling hands struggling to put keys into locks. A metallic squeal followed.

The singing got louder. The song dragons were lead out, the elder the last among them.

“ _Elder,_ ” I whispered as she passed. Her ears didn’t even twitch towards me.

The silence was foreign after spending so much time under the song. I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.

“Come on, lads!” Eret shouted over his shoulder. “We’ll need a lot of help with these ones.”

More men began filtering into the cramped hull. I shrunk away, ducking my head.

In one of their hands, I saw a muzzle.

“NO!” I shouted. Eret jumped and the men approaching the cage took a step back.

“We’ll come peacefully,” I said. “Please, there’s no need to tie us up like that.”

“Hah!” Eret laughed. “That’s a good one. And while we’re at it, I should untie your friend’s wings and tail, right?” He turned to his men. “Well, don’t just stand there! Go on, but mind their teeth!” He shot me a look and said, “Even that one.”

The men approached. I grit my teeth, squeezing Toothless’ paw one last time.

We let go.

The cage screeched open and rough hands hoisted me to my feet. My vision filled with men and shadows and bright, painful light, and before I could make heads or tails of what was going on, my wrists were tied behind my back.

Toothless spewed curses at them and struggled as best as he could—but the cage was cramped, his wings and tail were tied up, and he was ridiculously outnumbered. Ropes were looped around his neck and torso. Even then, he didn’t allow a single person to get near him with that gods-forsaken muzzle.

Unable to stand back and watch, I threw myself around, knowing it was useless and a waste of energy. Firm hands clamped down on my shoulders, forcing me to stay still.

All of these people were huge, looming over me and cast in shadows. They were clamoring, shouting orders to each other and struggling to maintain control of Toothless. I clenched my jaw as pain surged from my chest, sucking in thin breaths between my teeth.

_Keep it together, Hiccup! It’s not real!_

“ _It is fine,_ ” I whispered, cracking my eyes open.

“ _Hiccup!_ ”

I wasn’t alone.

I managed to straighten up among all of the hulking figures so much bigger than myself and let my eyes rest on Eret’s.

He gave a cheery grin and waved his men forward. Me first, then Toothless, and far behind us…the Color-Shifter, his muzzle bound so tight that he could hardly do anything more than stare with huge, terrified eyes. He was pulled from the cage the farthest from the song dragons, which must have spared him.

They dragged us up the stairs and out into the daylight. My eyes widened and my mouth parted.

“ _Damn_ ,” Toothless whispered behind me.

I had never been to a city before—but this must have been what it was like. Masts reached far above like a canopy of dead trees, their tips just barely scratching the edges of the mountainous glaciers surrounding the entire encampment. An intricate network of bridges had been laid out across the decks of the ships, each connected to pulley systems that allowed them to easily and quickly be raised and lowered. Enormous war machines and complex cages and traps were laid out at the ready, like at any moment they were expecting an attack.

Men were everywhere, busying themselves like ants along every open surface. There were easily more people here than I had seen in my entire life, and every single one of them was covered head to toe in weapons and armor. If I had thought that King’s nest was huge, then this place was easily the same size, if not bigger.

In-between the ships were alleys of water and ice, sea dragons of all shapes and sizes crammed in by heavy metal chains and poking their noses out of the water to breathe. The flying dragons bound here were just as unlucky. Like the men, every scale was coated with heavy metal armor, and they were all either tied down or forced to perform hard labor.

The air was full of men shouting in a variety of languages and dragons crying out in fear and pain.

It was an armada and a base all at once—a nomadic army prepared to charge at a moment’s notice with deadly and unforgiving strength.

I shivered from the cold and the dread that struck deep into my heart. There was something sinister about this place huddled in the shadows of the glaciers. The enslavement of the dragons—and possibly the _people,_ too—didn’t seem to be the worst of it. Something was lurking, something just outside my perception. I could feel it pulling at me, the slightest quiver deep to my bones.

We were dragged along the pathways, the ships and sails around us rising up like buildings. It gave the perception that we were on land, walking through a street. Eret lead at the front with the singing dragons he had collected from Bertha, and a guard surrounded both me and Toothless. Glancing over my shoulder, I could just barely see the Color-Shifter attempting to disguise himself, giving the illusion that the ropes tied around him were being controlled by an invisible ventriloquist.

We slowly picked our way through the bridges and decks until we came upon a bigger part of the shipyard. On the outskirts of the armada were smaller, sleeker ships much like Eret’s. Yet In the center and the front edge of the armada lurked several huge vessels. Traps and cages had been draped over all of their decks, empty and waiting.

“Drago!” Eret cried out in fake delight. “ _Drago_ , my friend. It’s been awhile!”

Whoever he was talking to, I couldn’t see him. The men in front of me stopped, and the singing dragons blocked the view. I shook my head at a small wave of dizziness their proximity caused.

“I come with some great news!” Eret exclaimed. “Not only have I got you some extra dragons fresh out of the sky, but I’ve completed the task you sent me out for!” His voice got louder, and he shoved his way through his men. “Come along, lad, don’t be shy.”

He put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me forward. I stepped along, my heart hammering, and tried to look calm and not-freaked-out.

“ _HICCUP!_ ” Toothless cried out, his voice tight with fear. The men behind us began to shout, several calling for reinforcements. There was a lot of movement, some snarling, and—

Toothless trotted out of the group and stood right next to me, his ropes dangling from his neck and his head held high. His bindings were quickly picked up again by every man near him, but that didn’t stop him from sending one hell of a smug look around him. We both pressed up close to each.

He struggled to look like he’d meant for that to happen, stuttering for a few seconds before saying, “ _And_ one last gift for you!” Still in a bit of a fluster, he swept his arm out dramatically. “A beautiful, sleek Night Fury, living right up to its name!”

Leaning against Toothless, I followed Eret’s nervous gaze. My heart leapt up into my throat.

The man was made of shadow.

He was approaching from a high platform, and with every step he seemed to suck the light out of the air around him. He was cloaked under a dark, wispy pelt, giving the illusion that he was a walking silhouette. His hair dragged beneath him like the spaces between beams of light glimmering through a canopy, a stark contrast against the light around him. What clothing I saw underneath his cloak was swallowed in its bleakness. One corner of his jaw drooped down, as if it were slowly breaking under the heaviness of the darkness.

Worst of all were his eyes. They were cold, lifeless, without any sort of compassion. There was no brightness in them, only a dead glint. If looking into Toothless’ eyes brought me life and warmth, looking into this man’s left me empty and frozen.

He glanced at Toothless and then pinned me under his corpse-like stare. He was completely silent even as he stopped just an arm’s length away, his dark form almost bleeding into the shadows around him.

Toothless figured it out first. Out of nowhere, he reared up like a spooked horse with a sharp, wheezing whine. Falling to his feet, he threw himself against me, struggling to stay close even as the men tugged at him.

A moment later, and I saw it myself. It took all of my self-control to muffle a horrified cry.

The cloak. Those were Shadow-Blender scales.

“ _No…_ ” Toothless whimpered, his legs shaking as he inched step-by-step closer to me. “ _No, no, no…_ ”

Throughout all of this, Eret had been yammering some sort of sales pitch. He finally finished it, “…and so, as you can see, I have delivered on my promises and then some, just for you!”

The man—Drago—turned his expressionless eyes onto Eret.

His voice was a low and guttural, deep in his throat like he was trying to clear it. It was something that made me immediately try to translate from _dragon_ language, only to be confused when I realized that it was Norse instead.

“Are those dragons infected?”

“Oh, these?” Eret asked somewhat nervously, sending a quick glance to the singing dragons. “Unfortunately, yes. That happened on the way back up here. But don’t you worry! I’ve still got—”

Drago cut him off with a swift snap of his arm, his fingers closing like talons around Eret’s neck.

The cloak dangled lifelessly around his form. Both Toothless and I winced away, huddling together, still in disbelief of what we were seeing. A Shadow-Blender pelt. Toothless had always spoken fondly of family, even if he hadn’t seen them since he was little. They didn’t live up here in the north. Where—and _who_ —was that?

“Your orders were simple,” Drago ground out. “Find the boy. Capture dragons. Do not bring infected ones back.”

Eret somehow managed to pull a grin even though he was in a chokehold. “Don’t worry!” He croaked. “I am confident that with the boy here—”

Drago leaned forward and _growled_ , just like a dragon. He snapped his fingers open and let Eret drop, hacking, to the ground. One of Eret’s crewmen, a young boy just a few years older than me, rushed forward to help him.

_Guish._

I gave a choked, horrified cry that cut off halfway through. Toothless froze, pinning his ears and arching his back.

Drago allowed a malevolent smile to burn across his lips, staring straight into the boy he’d driven his bullhook through. It was gouged deep into the boy’s midsection. Blood was pouring and spurting from the puncture, dripping over a limb-locked Eret, who was sitting frozen on the darkening deck.

I had a moment to see the confused agony in the boy’s eyes. Drago twisted the bullhook and flung him aside, wrenching the weapon from his body and throwing him overboard.

The water filled with a frenzy and sudden onslaught of snarls, the waves crashing in a white foam. The boy screamed and begged for help—and then his shrieks suddenly cut off. The foam turned crimson, and the luminescent eyes of the sea dragons sparked just in the depths.

After less than ten seconds, the sea dragons slipped back below the surface and disappeared without a hint that they were there.

Drago turned to Eret, his dead eyes glowing like cat eyes in the dark. “You’ve bet your life on him,” he snarled. “Do not disobey me again.”

Eret stared up at him in unmasked terror, coated in the blood of his young crewmate. “R-right,” he breathed.

I stared into the still-bloodied waters. My stomach roiled, my breath became thin, and my legs grew weak. Shadows swarmed my vision, compounded by the stench of blood, the slight taste of fear-scent that I could just barely imagine there. Had I not eaten so little, I would have vomited right then and there. I leaned heavily on Toothless as my heart both sunk and burst to double-speed with panic and horror, so much so that my ears rang and I began to feel lightheaded.

Just like that. Just like that, this man of shadows had tortured and murdered an innocent person, twisting it around into some grotesque lesson.

With a wave of Drago’s hand, the song dragons were taken away. The Color-Shifter was pulled in a different direction, rearing and thrashing the entire way. At every chance he got, he begged with his eyes for us to save him, to live up to our namesakes.

Too fast for us to snap out of the shock, the area cleared. Eret, his men, and Toothless and I were all that remained. Drago turned his attention on us.

“So _this_ is the dragon-boy?”

As shaken as I was, I still managed to shake my head.

Eret worked his jaw up and down before saying weakly, “Y-yes. This one’s dead-set on lying, but he’s the one. Heard ‘em talk to that dragon and everything. You should have heard them chatting on the way up here…” He gave a nervous, fake laugh. Drago stepped past him and he flinched away, covering his head with his arms.

It took several attempts for me to gasp out, “W-wait, hold on a second—I’m not—”

Toothless gave a furious, unsteady growl, trying to step in front of me. The men held him back and me in place.

Drago paused, taking clear notice that Toothless didn’t have a muzzle on. He turned his eyes back to me.

“Put it in an arena.”

“W-what? No!” I writhed around in the men’s grasp as they began to drag me away. They were taking me to one of the bigger ships connected to this one, which loomed above us and had the top of a huge circular cage peeking up over its starboard. “Wait, h-hold on!”

“ _No!_ ” Toothless roared.

There was a high-pitched shriek, a burst of flame…and then a shockwave barreled into us. The men stumbled. I slipped out of their grasp and stumble away—

Drago pulled his cloak back down, unimpressed, and waved off the small cloud of smoke still smoldering on those dead Shadow-Blender scales. More men took hold of me.

“Wait!” I shouted over my shoulder as Drago and Toothless were swallowed up in the crowd. “I’m not the person you’re looking for!”

I was carried up the steep bridge to the ship. Right in its center was the cage-like contraption I had caught a glimpse of before. It looked like a giant snapping trap embedded into the deck, designed to clamp shut with something inside it to capture it.

Except it wasn’t empty.

Pacing around in it was an enormous seafoam-green dragon. She had three heads, each with a long snout and gnarly overbite. Spines ran from her neck down to her three tailtips. She was four-legged, with her wings attached to her front paws like a Flame-Skin.

She whipped her six golden eyes towards us and screamed. Three horizontal, orange-white stripes flared across her body in a luminous display.

The trap was cranked open just enough.

“No, no, no,” I stammered. I was lifted up in the air and immediately began kicking my legs. “What are you doing?!”

“ _Hiccup!_ ” Toothless shrieked from below. He began to shout, but his voice suddenly cut off.

There was no time to panic. I was thrown in. The trap clamped shut.

The dragon lunged.

“Wait!” I begged her, leaping away just in time and rolling on the ground. The dragon had been running at full speed, and one of her heads went straight through the bars and got stuck. Her tail whipped around, snapping across my spine—and shearing the ropes holding my wrists behind me.

She howled with outrage, spitting curses that rivaled Toothless’ in creativity. Her death-wishes _should_ have sent shudders down my spine. Instead my heart lifted—and then dropped.

I knew that accent. It was of the dragons of the King’s nest—one of the Color-Shifter’s nestmates. Which was great…until I realized that meant she probably didn’t understand Norse and didn’t know who I was.

Time slowed to a crawl as I stood there, watching her struggle to rip herself free and shooting crackling golden fire all over the place.

Drago wanted me. He’d employed Eret to get me. Eret, in turn, had employed the Bog Burglars. They had probably been heading to Berk from here before they had lucked out and captured me on the way there. For whatever reason he needed me, he would go to just as many lengths as the King would.

If I managed to keep up this act…if I went out of my way to prove Eret wrong and convince Drago that I wasn’t who he was looking for…

Would I be enslaved? Or would I be deemed useless and killed? What would he do to _Toothless?_

The dragon wrenched herself free. She whirled towards me, teeth snapping, golden fire glowing in all three of her throats, and howled with all the rage she could muster at me.

She charged with murder in her eyes. This time, I knew I would not be able to get away.

I had no choice.

“ _STOP!_ ” I commanded, holding out my hands.

The dragon’s eyes widened and she skidded to a stop, rearing her head back. Her glowing stripes faded.

“ _What?_ ” She breathed in amazement. She launched into a long string of questions, “ _But_ … _how…what...Human? Dragon?…why…?_ ”

I kept my hands held out, struggling to catch my breath. In her confusion, I glanced up out of the trap. The deck of the ship was high above, giving the impression that I was in the Kill Ring with dozens of onlookers staring down and in. The only way out was a bridge leading up, which was also locked behind the cage door.

Drago was standing there, a gruesome grin splitting his face in two. Eret stood at his side, looking like he was about to collapse with relief and rubbing his throat.

The dragon’s tone became less inquisitive and more suspicious. All three of her heads argued and then began snapping accusations at me with narrowed eyes and bared teeth. She thought I was tricking her.

“ _No_ ,” I murmured in a low voice, like if I spoke quietly Drago wouldn’t hear and I could still lie us out of this. “ _Me…friend. It…is…fine._ ”

“ _Liar!_ ” All three heads of the dragon screeched. She swiped her talons at me.

I jolted away, twisting my body around and falling on my side. The dragon advanced, saliva dripping from her fangs, her glowing stripes reappearing. She pounced for my throat.

“ _Savior! Me Savior!”_ I shouted, cringing into the deck and covering my head.

Three jaws closed a hair away from my face with three piercing _SNAP_ s _._ Her breath wafted over me, burning hot and smelling of smoke.

Each head repeated to me, “ _Savior? Savior? Savior?_ ”

“ _Yes_ ,” I heaved. “ _I am a Savior. I spoke to your King._ ”

She narrowed her eyes with scrutiny, still not so sure. One of her heads spoke in confusion, struggling to understand me.

“ _Soulfire!_ ” I gasped, drawing the word out. “ _Your King wants soulfire!_ ”

 _That_ got her attention. Even in her confusion, she seemed to have picked out that single important word.

“ _King!_ ” One head yelped, going on about him. She sniffed at me and squawked about her nest and nestmates; she could find their scent on me.

The second head studied me, head tipped aside.

“ _Human? Dragon?_ ” The last asked, thoroughly perplexed.

I looked down at my hands, and then at the pocket for my wings beside them.

The heads spoke amongst themselves. They argued and took in my scent. I caught the words _King_ and _nestmates_ and _song._

They came to a decision. Six eyes bored into me.

The dragon stepped back, placed one paw straight out in front of her, and buried her foreheads into the deck.

“ _Savior. Savior. Savior._ ”

This was quickly followed by a plea: _please save us._

I grimaced. Great, there went that plan. My _only_ plan.

“ _Sorry_ ,” I whispered, sitting up and panting. “ _I’m so sorry..._ ”

I trailed my eyes back above, to the looming shadow sitting there grinning with victory.

Fear flooded my senses, making everything crisp and clear. “No!” I wheezed, scrambling upright.

Right at his feet was Toothless. Someone had managed to get that damn muzzle on him, and he was being held in place with at least ten ropes coming off of him. He met my eyes, but in them I only saw relief.

Drago casually held the bullhook over Toothless’ neck, letting it rest on the soft spot where there wasn’t any spines. Toothless wrenched around with a muffled growl, but the combined forces of Drago’s and Eret’s men were too much for him.

He nodded at some men. The trap began to crack open again. The three-headed dragon exploded with color and curses, rearing up in anticipation and each head facing a different direction.

“Tell it to stand down,” Drago commanded.

Toothless shook his head even as fear glimmered in his eyes. _Don’t_ , he was saying. _Don’t give in._

But I had just seen this man mercilessly kill one of his own, out of nothing but madness and spite.

_And he had Toothless._

“ _Stop!_ ” I commanded the dragon. She did just that, gaping down at me. “ _Do…not…attack!_ ” Staring pointedly at Toothless, I named him, “ _Savior._ ”

She followed my gaze and bristled, arching her back. Vengeance and bloodlust filled her voice—but also fear and dread and hopelessness. Now that she’d realized that _both_ Saviors were captured, she was at a loss, panicked and hopeful and desperate all at once.

“ _Do…not…attack!_ ” I said again, limping towards the bridge out of the cage that led to Drago and Toothless.

She looked between me and the open trap, the sky tantalizingly close.

Her eyes settled on Drago. She gave a soft, fearful hiss, and slunk away to hide behind me.

I turned to Drago, still shaking, and set my jaw. “Let him go.”

Drago’s smile vanished. He paused—and pushed the bullhook in.

Toothless gave a sharp whine, squeezing his eyes shut. I cried out in horror, rushing forward until the men at the bridge stopped me.

“ _I_ am in control,” the man of shadows growled. “ _I_ give commands. _I_ am your Alpha.”

He pushed the weapon even deeper, so much that Toothless gave a sharp cry of pain and his legs almost gave out. The very sound kicked my heart into overdrive, making me feel as though I had taken the blow myself.

“Alright! _Alright!_ ” I begged, stopping just a few feet away and holding my hands up. “I’ll listen to you, I’ll—I’ll calm down more dragons for you, but—but—”

Drago smirked.

And he pushed that damned bullhook in further.

And Toothless _squealed._

Toothless’ legs suddenly went limp, and he dropped to the ground with a cry of pain that he tried to muffle. His limbs locked up, and he attempted to lift himself up on wildly-shaking legs once, twice, thrice—

“No. _No!_ ” I gasped, choking up, struggling to find more words that fled from my lips. It was impossible to breathe, or think, or feel _anything_ but the horror clenching tight around my chest, ripping the air from my lungs. With each failed attempt to get up, each time my brother’s pain was so great that he couldn’t even _stand_ , despair darkened the world more and more.

“Alright! I get it! Stop, _please!_ ” I nearly sobbed.

Drago met my eye. He ripped the bullhook back, and Toothless let out a wheezing shriek that turned my blood cold.

Amidst all the panic and fear washing over me in great waves, anger sparked. He wasn’t just using me—he was using _Toothless_ , too, playing with his life like a cat plays with its crippled prey. In my mind’s eye, a horrible vision lunged at me from the shadows: Drago, a Shadow-Blender pelt hanging limp off his shoulders. A _familiar_ Shadow-Blender pelt.

Just like always, I was completely, totally, absolutely _useless_. He was standing there, puffed up with pride, while he tortured my brother right in front of me. Beneath that wicked joy he took from our suffering, I saw something else: a promise. A promise to plunge me into a world without love, without warmth, without meaning. A promise to cast me into a world without Toothless.

I couldn’t do it. The very idea sent torrents of heartbreak and agony slicing through my heart. Toothless was my other half. Without him, I would be all the more empty than I already was, all the more useless and incomplete, all the more of a lost, strange creature that couldn’t even figure out _what_ it was.

Tears prickled in my eyes, born from both fury and despair. I dropped my arms, fingers curling into claws, and bared my teeth. “If you kill him, you kill me, too,” I snarled. My voice rattled as much as my body, “W-whatever it is you want, I’ll stop the second you lay a finger on him. I’ll—I’ll stop eating, I’ll stop drinking, I’ll do nothing but _lay_ there and wait for…for…”

My eyes flicked away from his, and I cut myself off.

Toothless had stopped trying to get up. He lay at Drago’s feet, still shaking with the agony of having the bullhook plunged into him...and also with shameless, unbridled _terror._ He was staring at me as if I had transformed into a beast, as if he had seen me drop dead to the ground right there, as if _he_ was the one watching his brother tortured for sport rather than the other way around.

He could only watch, piercing through me with that horrified, frightened stare, his eyes carrying an unspoken plea. I had only ever seen that one other time: when the Queen had dragged me down into the ocean and transformed me back into...into _this_ , killing me in the process.

The rush of anger and terror faded, and realization set in. I felt disconnected, like I wasn’t here, like the words I had just spoken had been someone else. “ _I’m...sorry…_ ” I breathed, but somehow couldn’t find my voice enough to say anything else. What words I could think of were swallowed up in Toothless’ heartbroken stare, futile and useless in the face of what I had just done.

Drago glanced between the two of us, his dark eyes cunning and thoughtful. Eret and his men all looked to him with anticipation and to me with shock.

That horrible grin returned to his lips. It finally got through my stupid head that I should have just gone along with what he wanted.

His grainy voice filled with amusement, “So, you want to challenge me, little dragon-boy?”

He flared his Shadow-Blender cloak. He met my eyes and abandoned Toothless, rushing at me with such startling speed that I took a few steps back.

In moments, he seemed to grow twice in size. The dragon behind me whined with fear.

In an inhuman scream so loud that my ears rang _,_ Drago _roared._

 _“SUBMIT!_ ” He swung the bullhook in a wide circle above him, flinging warm droplets of blood— _Toothless’_ blood—that peppered my skin. “ _SUBMIT! SUBMIT!_ ”

It was so unexpected and horrifying to hear the dragon-tongue rip from his throat that I stumbled backwards. Drago advanced further. He was so big, so loud—the murder clear in his eyes, the bloodthirst evident from the crimson stains on his clothing.

He caught up to me and shoved me down. Toothless’ outcry was lost, far away, as my vision filled with him standing over me, ready to plunge his weapon into my heart.

He was a shadow, a shadow wrenching control of my life from me, a shadow that was going to turn me to nothing and _use_ me. In him I saw the Queen’s madness—and in him, I saw something else, something so unwelcome and _wrong_ that I choked on air as a horrible pain burst through my chest.

I met my father’s eyes and flung myself away. It wasn’t him—it _wasn’t_ him!—I knew he didn’t hate me anymore! Toothless was there—he would help—we were together—!

“ _It is fine!”_ I hissed to myself. I could almost convince myself that I heard Toothless saying it, too. “ _It is fine!_ ”

_It’s not real!_

But Drago wasn’t an illusion. He wasn’t a trick of my mind. He was real, a dead shadow that could and _would_ lunge for the kill, unlike the imaginary one that stalked at the edge of my shell of magic. He was real, and he had been prowling the shell of the King’s nest, bleeding from it the dragons there that remained.

Now his sights were set on us. On _me._

And I had let him consume me, spewing words turned to poison, snarling them with all my heart, blind to how each word tore down Toothless more and more.

 _Keep it together!_ I all but screamed at myself as the real and unreal bled into each other around me. The Queen. Drago. Dad. Fear struck through me, but not of the madman standing before us. I couldn’t freak out—not here, not now—not when I needed to keep calm more than anything!

Drago seemed hundreds of feet taller than me, contempt and victory both evident in the twisted crook of his mouth. I blinked—Dad—the Queen—

“ _NO!_ ” I shrieked in desperation and defiance, clawing at the shadows constricting me. I had to fight back, I had to throw it off, I had to stop screwing everything up!

The bullhook plunged into the wood in front of me. A mountainous force crashed into my chest and pinned me there, all but caving my lungs in. I struggled to breathe as my heart lit up with agony.

Drago hunched to loom over me, making the sun blink out overhead.

“You belong to me.”

My ears rang. Toothless was screeching far away, barely audible over the shouts of all the men.

“No,” I wheezed. I struggled to break free, but I was pathetically overpowered. “No!”

Drago’s eyes glinted knowingly. He peered deep into me and let a cruel grin slide across his face. He knew, somehow, just by looking at me.

I fought anyways. I knew it was useless, but still I exhausted myself trying to rip myself free of the consuming darkness.

Drago chuckled.

Because when had I ever been free of these shadows?


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Toothless

Stolen.

We had been stolen. Stolen from the sky, from warmth, from our responsibilities, from our home, from our safety. We had almost had security grasped in our claws, only to be wrenched away by the cold bite of steel grasped in the talons of a monster.

Hiccup disappeared from view in the sea of humans. Glowing lights spotted my vision as ropes around my throat wrenched me around, constricting to the point that I could scarcely breathe. My limbs were overcome with a tidal wave of prickling numbness, and my neck and upper shoulders screamed with pain from when that _thing_ had pushed his claws deep into my soft spot.

I tried to call out for Hiccup, but the muzzle was too tight. I could only manage a feeble, “ _Hmmfp!_ ”

The roar of the crowd around us was enormous, filled with yammering human tongues and dragons wailing. It was too much—my vision was already blurring from the pain and lack of air, but now it was downright nauseating, making the wood below seem to rock unsteadily between my claws.

I walked with stiff, lagging legs, swaying back and forth and taking quick steps to right myself when I got too dizzy. My tail whipped around until human paws clamped down on it and held it still. My wings drooped, too tingly and numb for me to even think of trying to move them around.

None of it mattered to me. I had to get back to him. I _had_ to show him I was alright. He couldn’t be alone—I wouldn’t _allow_ him to be alone! Not after…not after he’d…

A blast of cold air, and darkness closed in. I realized what was happening just as I was thrust into the damned cage.

“ _Nff!_ ” I hissed, twisting around and slamming all of my weight into it just as it was shut. It didn’t budge. The pain of the impact was enough to make me reconsider doing it again…and then disregard it. I threw myself at it again. I couldn’t let them separate us—I couldn’t let Hiccup be _alone!_

“ _Hmmfp!_ ” I tried to screech, the terror clamping around my heart more painful than all my wounds combined. Dragoness of the Moon, they were separating us! He wouldn’t know that I was alright!

The humans laughed at my pathetic attempts to reach out to my brother. They so damned _loud_ , stomping and shouting in archaic-sounding tongues. There was some clanging, more laughter, and footsteps. The opening to the cave, the only source of light, was closed.

I was shut in cold, cold darkness again, for the second time within just a few hours. The silence almost stung. In it, everything else was almost tangible. The horrible fear-scent that struck deep into my nostrils, the lingering taste of blood on the air, the rocking of the cage, the subtle groaning of metal and wood…and something else.

It was so low that I couldn’t hear it, but I could _feel_ it vibrating against my side-frills. It was a physical thing, even though I was completely alone. At once, a strange fear seized me, and I backpedaled until I crashed into the back end of the cage.

Was it the song? Was is close? Where was it coming from? Why was it here? Was it affecting Hiccup, too?

I couldn’t let it distract me, not when I needed to focus on getting back to Hiccup. “ _Nf!_ ” I shouted at it, shaking my head and pawing at my ears. “ _Nf!_ ”

There was a surprised squeak nearby and some shuffling.

“H-Hello?” A timid voice asked. It was the Color-Shifter.

At the very same time, a much more welcome voice whispered with rising hope, “ _Toothless?_ ”

I froze.

Oh, thank the Dragon of the Sun and Dragoness of the Moon! He was here! He knew I was okay!

“ _Hmmfp!_ ” I hobbled forward again and smacked my nose right into the cage. With a pained grunt, I bent my head and pawed at the sting.

“Gods…” Hiccup cursed. In a shaken, weary voice, he rasped, “ _Toothless, I’m so, so sorry._ ”

I tried to scold him, but it was just as muffled and impossible to understand as everything else.

“Saviors…?” The Color-Shifter asked, still uncertain. His dull voice began to fill with hope, “You’re…both of you are here?”

“ _Toothless, are you hurt?_ ” Hiccup croaked. There was some shuffling as he moved around in his cage a short distance away.

“ _Mm-mm_ ,” I hummed. I began to claw at the leather strap sealing my jaw shut, but it was no use—there was some metal in it, too.

“ _This is my fault,_ ” Hiccup growled to himself. “ _I need fight, I need be no scared and be strong and smart, but no! I was weak. I…I…_ ” His voice filled with despair. “ _I submit._ ”

“ _Nf!_ ” I growled, lashing my tail and shaking my head.

There was a short silence.

Whatever that prying, horrible thing was, it seemed to have stopped. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, even though it was so dark that it made no difference. At least that was one less thing to worry about for now.

“Saviors, w-what’s wrong?” The Color-Shifter stammered in rising panic. “I don’t…I can scarcely understand him. Why does he sound so hopeless? Surely you have a plan?”

With no other option, I settled for a dismissive grunt. My claws bore into the leather of the muzzle, only to painfully catch on the steel below, sending sharp little needles of pain through my paws.

“ _Toothless?_ ” Hiccup spoke up. “ _I…think I know what to do. Look down, then use your fire._ ”

“… _hmf?_ ” I asked. Still, I trusted him to come up with something and did as I was told.

Bending my neck down, I filtered enough gas into my jaw to be able to light a fire. A soft hiss escaped between my teeth as I creaked my jaw open, straining with all my strength against the muzzle just to open them a hair’s width. The muzzle bit down hard, fighting against my efforts, and my mouth began to fill with a dangerous volume of gas.

I managed to get my mouth to open the slightest bit, and the firing gas flew to its escape. Without a second thought, I flicked my ignitor to turn the gas into a slow, curling flame. It creeped around my lips and flickered upwards, casting a soft amber glow onto our surroundings. The Color-Shifter was in a cage across from mine and off to the side, scrunched up as close to the bars as he could. Hiccup was in the cage directly across from mine, slumped against the side of it, bedraggled and worn. His eyes met mine, and a little bit of their light seemed to return.

Because I had my head down, the tips of my flames went straight up instead of forward. The leather of the muzzle caught fire just as the strain became too much. I cut off my gas supply right before my jaw clamped shut. Smoke filled my throat and flew out of my nostrils, which was very uncomfortable, but worth the efforts. With a grimace, I held my breath and tried not to sneeze.

Now, most of my muzzle was on fire—or, rather, most of the _flammable_ parts of my muzzle were on fire. High-pitched hisses and crackling filled the cavern as the leather shriveled and warped. I lied down, grabbed at the smoldering thing with both my paws, and pulled with all my might. Even though my head was pounding, I fought against the restraint as hard as I could and strained to open my jaw again.

_CrrreeeeING!_

Metal shards went flying. The Color-Shifter gave a sharp yelp. The fire began to fade.

“ _Ow!_ ” I complained, rubbing at my sore jaw with a paw. I shook my head to dislodge stray metal and leather bits, and soft _tings_ filled the cavern.

“ _You okay?_ ” Hiccup asked, alarmed and guilty now.

A grin split across my lips. “ _Yes, yes! Thank you, Hiccup!_ _See, you smart! I would never think of that!_ ”

He gave a wry, humorless chuckle. “ _Heh,_ _that the only good thing I can do._ ”

My face fell. Pain clutched at my chest and my limbs began to shake, but not from the wound in my spine. I stared at the spot in the darkness where I knew he was.

I didn’t have to say anything. Without anything else to distract us, the shadow of our confrontation with that monster swooped overhead. The shadow of what he had done. The shadow of what he had draped across his shoulders.

The shadow of what Hiccup had said.

“So, you’ve a plan, yes?” The Color-Shifter asked, a little more confident after seeing our other “plan” work. “L-let’s be over it quickly, then, so we can—”

“ _Why did you say that?!_ ” I exploded, my heart pounding and my ears pinned. “ _Why you_ think _that? Please, you lie? That lie?_ ”

He didn’t have to answer my desperate plea, but he did anyways. “ _…I’m sorry, Toothless…_ ”

“ _No!_ ” I gasped. “Why? _That…that no_ you, _Hiccup! You are strong! Why…how…how can you say that?!_ ”

All at once, the stress and agony of the past few days sprung up on me. Our home invaded, Hiccup lost, our nestmates wounded and disappearing, the confusion and self-loathing of my inadequacy as King, the terror of capture, the monster of that human…and the searing words that Hiccup had spoken with all of his heart.

It was difficult to catch my breath. My own fresh fear-scent flooded the cage.

“ _Why?_ ” I repeated. “ _Why did you say ‘if human kills Toothless, you kill you’?! Why…why you…_ Hiccup…”

I began to sob.

Hiccup’s breath whooshed out in a stunned, trembling whine—a sound I’d never heard from him before. His voice filled with shame and guilt, and he rushed, “ _T-Toothless, no, I’m so sorry! That—that no—”_

I heaved as I struggled to compose myself. “You meant it,” I choked, shaking my head. “ _You speak the truth…_ ”

With another whine, Hiccup said, “ _Toothless, no…I’m so stupid, and…and…_ ” He began to speak in a mixture of human and dragon words, “ _That_ horrible _and_ wrong _and I’m so sorry._ I promise, _Toothless_ , I promise that _I never_ do that _._ I was desperate _and scared and think_ Drago was about to kill you, _but that_ not an excuse _and…_ ”

Now his voice was rattling, like he was taken up in the shadow’s jaws and being wrenched around. “ _I’m so, so sorry, Toothless. I understand you_ don’t forgive me. I’m…I’m just as terrible as Drago.” In a softer tone, “ _I_ don’t forgive me.”

My mind was racing. “ _No_ , _no, no,_ ” I murmured. “Of course I forgive you. I…”

I took a deep breath to calm myself. Swallowed in darkness, I heard Hiccup do the same.

“ _Okay,_ ” I breathed. “ _Okay. I’m not_ mad, _Hiccup. I’m only scared for you._ ”

“ _That no fair to you_. _I’m sorry—_ ”

“Shh,” I stopped him. “ _Hiccup, I love you. You know that! I’m_ always _scared for you, stupid._ ”

This earned a small snort from him.

“ _You need to talk. About this._ ” The moment the words left my mouth, I realized what they sounded like: a demand. Softening my voice, I amended, “ _Please, Hiccup, if...if...you are ready to._ ”

I could almost see him cringing away and hiding behind his wings as he moaned, “ _…Now?_ ”

“ _No, tomorrow_ ,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “ _But...but...I don’t know. I_ want _to help you, Hiccup, and talk good, not bad. But...if you still hurt, then...I understand if not now._ ”

Hiccup fell into a sullen, contemplative silence. I almost tried to draw him out of it, only to stop myself just before the words left my lips. Lessons hard-learned from the past had only taught me that pressing him for answers when he wasn’t comfortable with discussion would send him deeper within himself.

Hiccup would have to talk to me on his _own_ terms—not mine.

The Color-Shifter leaped at the opportunity to speak. “What was…ah…are you two… _so_ , we have a plan to get out of here, yes?”

“No,” I sighed. I was far too drained to explain everything to him—not that it was any of his business.

“Ah…what?” The Color-Shifter laughed uneasily. “This is no time for jokes, Savior.”

“I’m not joking.”

There was some scuffling of claws on metal.

“B-But…we can’t…we must escape, Savior! We’ll _die_ here!”

I shook my head with another sigh. He was correct that we should be trying to find a way out, but this took priority.

Hiccup had blatantly stated that he would kill himself. Defending me or not, him agreeing with me or not, I was not letting this pass until I lectured some sense into him.

I didn’t know how I would—offering “you have so much to live for” and “you must be strong” and all the like would do _nothing_ to help—but I had to do _something._ All I knew for certain was that I had to be there for him, not allowing my own emotions to take over. Breaking down and crying only put more of a burden on Hiccup’s shoulders, filling him with even more guilt and self-loathing than before.

So, when Hiccup finally spoke up, I was incredibly nervous.

“I’m always falling,” he said in a hush. “No matter what I do, or where I go…I always fall.”

“Falling?” I asked in as gentle a voice as I could.

“What?” The Color-Shifter asked me. I shushed him, and he clammed up, “Ah, r-right, my apologies, Savior, I—”

It took another hiss for him to actually be quiet.

Hiccup waited a beat. “Every time… _every_ time,” he growled. “Every time I feel like I’m getting better, something happens and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s like…like what Drago said about me belonging to him.”

“ _No, he wrong_ ,” I said. “ _He is stupid and dangerous._ ”

“I know, but…but I feel like that _all the time_ , Toothless. And I’m just so _sick_ of it! I’m _so_ tired of being scared and always feeling like something horrible is about to happen! I’m _so_ tired of being some shadow’s puppet and feeling so empty!”

I waited, trembling, as he sucked in a long breath.

“ _I’m so sorry,”_ Hiccup croaked. “What I said earlier, it was _horrible._ I should have never put that on you. Drago was threatening to kill you and I just…I can’t even _imagine_ living in a world without you. You’re _everything_ to me, and—and he was threatening to _kill_ you, Toothless! And I…It was just one last horrible thing I could do nothing about. So when I said that, at least—at least _I_ could have been the one doing the bad thing after that, instead of anyone else… _anything_ else.”

My breath was thin, my limbs locked. I swallowed thickly, shaking as though the ice freezing over my heart was actually killing me. I didn’t dare speak, or Hiccup would hear the heartbreak in my voice and place all the blame on his own shoulders.

“ _So stupid…_ ” Hiccup said in a thin hiss. “All this time, I’ve just been fighting to make it go away by just…covering it up. I keep forcing myself to focus on other things and worry about it later, which is never. I keep telling myself that these things aren’t real, and they aren’t, I _know_ that, but at the same time they _are_ real. And all of that made it boil over, and I hurt you, Toothless.”

He took one more shuddering breath and stopped. I scrambled to collect my thoughts.

I understood the logic of it, how everything in the past had made him feel so aimless, like he had no control over his life or what happened to us. How all of it could slowly build beneath the surface until it suddenly shifted, like an ice shelf snapping off into the ocean. I’d seen such events before: a great and cataclysmic slash materializing through a seemingly-solid surface and breaking it into pieces.

This was far more terrifying.

“… _Toothless?_ ” Hiccup called. Now nervous and insecure, he stammered, “I’m…starting to need some feedback here… _you…mad?_ ”

“ _No! No, no!_ ” I gasped, cursing myself for growing so silent at the _worst_ time. “ _No, Hiccup, I’m not mad. I’m only…sad, and scared._ ” More to myself, I added, “ _Very scared._ ”

Hiccup waited for me to decide what to say just as I had done the same for him.

“ _That…was the truth, then…_ ” I sighed, still not wanting to believe it. “ _I understand why you feel so lost, Hiccup. And I’m here for you. I_ want _to hear all of this, okay? I’m proud of you for talking about this, okay?_ ”

“ _Okay_ ,” he whispered, a little louder this time.

“ _Do you_ always _feel like this?_ ”

“ _Yes…no?…_ ugh, it’s so jumbled up,” he moaned. “I have ups and downs, where…when I’m with you, and we’re talking and flying, it’s almost…normal. But then…when I get reminded…when I feel this shadow come up on me, I just feel like the real world is crashing in on some fantasy. It’s hard to tell what it all really is, or…or what _I_ really am.”

I struggled for something to say. Something to make him feel better without brushing it off. Of course I’d known he’d felt this way—he’d told me, for the gods’ sake.

I’d had no idea it was getting _worse_ , when on the surface it seemed just the opposite _._ I had no idea he’d felt so disconnected with reality like this.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” I whimpered. “ _I’m sorry I never knew._ ”

“ _No, Toothless_ ,” he said. “ _I’m_ the one who messed up here.”

“ _But you no lie?_ ” I asked, my heart skipping a beat. “ _You no...you no hide this?_ ”

“ _No!_ ” He rushed. “It was more of…hiding from myself…and forgetting that it wasn’t normal.” He gave a soft sigh. “You know…talking about this...it’s hard and it _sucks_ , but...but I think I feel a little better about...about everything. Even though I feel like a huge jerk.”

“ _Talk_ always _good, Hiccup_ ,” I reminded him. “ _Thank you for talking to me. I know it hurts, but now we can work on it. Together._ ”

“ _Thank you, Toothless_ ,” He said. “ _I promise this will never happen again._ I know covering everything up made me _think_ I was getting better, but…Dragon of the Sun, I wish I’d realized how stupid I was being. I’m so sorry I hurt you, Toothless.”

_CLANG!_

Light burst into the cavern like an explosion, stinging my eyes not with heat but with frigid cold. A horrid gust of wind rushed through, prickling at my scales and the scuffs left behind by the ropes. I squinted against the stabbing brightness, pinning my ears and raising my lip.

One pair of footsteps, slow and confident. I blinked rapidly, saw what was standing directly in front of my cage, and cringed low to the ground.

The Shadow-Blender skin.

The monster.

I found myself searching the skin in vain again, praying for all I was worth. Father had had more noticeable markings on his scales than myself. The last time I’d seen him, my older brother had earned himself a few scars, none of which I could spot. And Mother…

Her scales…had been that shade…

“Rot in the Prebirth,” I snarled at the monster. The Color-Shifter gasped.

His eyes flicked to the pieces of my muzzle. For some unearthly reason, this brought a sick grin to his face.

Without a word, he turned around towards Hiccup’s cage. A sharp metallic sound, and it was flung open.

“Will you challenge me again, dragon-boy?” He rumbled in that grating, dragonlike voice.

He raised his claw-stick. I flinched. Behind the monster, I saw Hiccup do the same.

Still, my brother collected his feet beneath him and eased himself upright. He swayed and held his paws out for balance.

“ _No, Hiccup!_ ” I gasped. I began collecting gas in my throat to fire, but the damned thing was standing too close to Hiccup; he’d be injured, too, if I shot any fire of real substance.

“ _It is fine_ ,” Hiccup whispered, taking a deep and shaken breath. “ _It is fine, it is fine, it is fine…_ ”

Drago looped a rope around Hiccup’s midsection, pinning his arms to the side. “Come!” He barked, like he was leading some simple, dumb animal.

“Why you—you damned—!” I roared.

“ _I’m okay,_ ” Hiccup whispered, his voice faint and weary. “ _I promise, Toothless._ ”

He let himself get dragged along. His legs were shaking as he almost stalked his way out, hunched over in a crouch and head low. He moved uneasily, favoring his many injuries, and his chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths.

His eyes were bright in the sharp and cold light. They were fixed on the human monster with fear and trepidation.

And yet, deep within them, there was a small spark of defiance as well.

**o.O.o**

Hiccup

He didn’t say anything.

I wriggled around in the rope, but it was far too tight. It constricted right at my elbows, preventing me from using my arms at all. Pain bolted through my injured arm, my leg, my heart. Cold, nervous energy swept through my veins as we stepped out of the hull of the ship and through the fleet. Men and dragons alike stared, all of them with fear and shock.

My eyes flitted here and there, and my fears grew darker and darker at what I saw. There was not a single surface in sight unprotected by metal, men, and enslaved dragons. There would be no sneaking out of here—not with so many eyes trailing our movements, unblinking and watchful and glinting in the deep shadows like weapons glowing in the moonlight. I sniffed at the air and only found brine and cold and smoke.

There was no escape from this dark, freezing labyrinth. I lowered my head and ground my teeth together.

I had to be strong. I promised Toothless.

I let my eyes trail back to Drago. My heart rate spiked, sending a shudder down my spine. He seemed to suck in the shadows around him, shrouding himself in them. He swallowed any hope of getting away before it was even a dim thought in the back of my mind. He was so sure of my obedience that he didn’t even bother keeping an eye on me.

A low growl rose in my throat and died there. _Focus, Hiccup._

We traced our path from ship to bridge to ship. Eventually we came upon one of the larger vessels, huge and deep. Drago tugged me along onto the bridge leading up to it.

We were halfway up when realization hit me. I froze. The rope went taut.

Drago turned and seared into me with his dead eyes. My skin crawled and my breath thinned as I fought to hold his gaze.

The man of shadows yanked me forward, and I stumbled and just barely managed to keep from slipping right off the plank and into the frigid waters. A crooked grin found its way to his lips, and he resumed our meandering path.

This ship was flanked by two others equal in size, all of them connected by bridges connected to elaborate locking mechanisms. We brushed past men working on repairs and carrying baskets of fish.

I caught a whiff of food, and my stomach roared. It had been so long since I’d eaten a real meal—the last I’d had were a few bites back at the King’s nest.

Drago swung open a door near the captain’s room, revealing a staircase that crept down into the hull.

I grimaced, wrinkling my nose and baring my teeth. “ _It is fine,_ ” I said on my breath.

Drago pulled me in. We entered the ship.

The song roared around us. I braced myself against it, swaying where I stood.

There must have been dozens of dragons in this ship alone. They were crammed into the cages so tight that they had barely any space to breathe, no less move around. Yet not a single one of them looked uncomfortable or raised their voice in complaint, their eyes blank and unfocused and their bodies still.

I spotted the elder Hum-Wing among them and straightened with a sharp gasp.

“You _._ ”

I flinched away on impulse. Drago lurched me back towards him, his face cast in stone.

Meeting those dead eyes was almost painful, plunging sharp spikes of anxiety into my chest and scattering my thoughts. He was like a monster ripped right out of my nightmares and brought to life, keyed in on my greatest weakness and more than eager to use it against me.

The shadow had always been able to pick away at me, leaving me just as empty as my shell of magic, and he was just the same. But what’s more, that had made me hurt Toothless. It was not Drago, but _me_ who had torn him to pieces, who had made him break down and _weep_ with despair for me.

I would never let myself do that to him again. I had to be strong. No matter how deep it stung, no matter how dizzyingly reality swam in and out of focus, no matter how much I wanted to push it aside for later, I had to be strong.

I forced myself not to look away, even as Drago’s form merged with the darkness around him, seeming to surround me on all sides with his empty and uncaring eyes.

“You will speak to these dragons,” he commanded. “You will cure them, or seal the slow death of your friend.”

His tone held a challenge. He was testing me to see if I was willing to fight him again…to see if I would let these shadows consume me so deeply again.

I clenched my jaw shut and said nothing, even as guilt and shame flooded my thoughts. I would not stoop that low again. I would not betray Toothless and _myself_ like that, letting myself sink to such a selfish low.

Drago and I stared into each other.

“I don’t know how to,” I rasped.

Drago looked at me like that was _my_ problem, not his.

He grabbed onto the rope and dragged me like a disobedient mule towards the cages. I hissed with pain and revulsion, cringing away from his hand, but all he did was yank on it. It was only when we stopped just in front of the cages that he finally released the rope, letting it fall to the floor.

“Go ahead… _dragon-boy_.” He said the term with a demeaning grin.

I offered a weak glare, which only seemed to amuse him even more. With no other option, I faced the cages and made my way over to the one holding the elder Hum-Wing. She was jammed in there pretty good, pressed up against the cage on one side and five dragons on the other. Her empty eyes were unfamiliar, like she wasn’t real.

The sight sent another wave of anger and fear through me. I swallowed, fighting to keep my emotions under control.

Maybe now that I was closer to her…

“ _Elder?_ ” I whispered.

The song swirled around me like an undertow, tugging at me and trying to drag me down into the ocean’s depths. I shook my head as a wave of nausea and lightheadedness rammed against me.

“ _Elder!_ ” I said, louder this time. “ _Please, listen to me. I’m Hiccup. I’m your King. Do you hear me? Elder!_ ”

The song surged about me, filling my ears with cotton. The shapes and colors of the dragons and cages blended together into a single, confusing mass. The song was emptiness incarnate, filling the world with nothingness, and my senses were useless in its grip.

My eyelids fluttered. Why was I here? Where was…?

“Speak!” Drago growled.

I was so dazed I didn’t even jump. I just shook my head, pouncing after my scattering thoughts. The elder’s eyes were set on me, but they were sightless—not like she’d gone blind, but like she wasn’t _there_ anymore.

A small croon left me. “ _Elder, I’m here,_ ” I promised her. “ _Your King is here! Please, fight it—let me help you!”_

Her eyes might have flicked over to mine—but no, it was just my imagination, a desperate hope that I _wanted_ to believe. I knew already that this wouldn’t work. I had spent hours inside a ship begging her to come back to me, just like right now.

My shoulders drooped and my face fell. I tried to get even closer, pressing my entire body up against the cage. My legs felt like they were made of lead, like I was struggling to slog through murky water, but I didn’t stop until I was as close to her as physically possible. Closing my eyes, I pressed my head up against the cage, just barely managing to touch my forehead to hers through the bars.

“ _I’m sorry, elder,_ ” I mumbled. “ _You’re like this because of me. I’m your King, but you still hurt. I failed you._ ”

The elder sang. I started to get dizzy again.

Just as Toothless and I had on the ships, I forced myself into speaking something, _anything_ , if only to block it out. “ _I don’t know how to help you._ Nobody _does...no me, no Toothless, no King of intruding nest...but I think the old King is wrong. He thinks soulfire will help this. But soulfire no help, it hurt more…_ ”

The song jumped, a sudden pitch in shift. Then it resumed its whorl around me, muffling everything around me. I felt so heavy. I could almost feel the entire world spinning.

It was too much. I pulled away from the elder and turned to Drago.

“It’s not working,” I slurred, struggling to focus on his hard gaze.

He seemed to grow twice in size as he advanced upon me. “Do that again.”

“Do…what?” I asked.

“You can’t fool me, _dragon-boy_ ,” he scoffed. “You did something—I heard it. Do it again.”              

I wrinkled my nose at him even as I shrunk away. I could almost feel a phantom tail thrashing, wings I no longer had opening wide to make myself look bigger. I wanted like nothing else to bare my teeth and snarl at him, but the shadows surrounding him were too great, his corpse-like eyes too sharp. The moment I fought back, he would retaliate by hurting Toothless.

Twisting towards the elder, I stalled, “ _I hate this, elder. I want us go home—_ all _us, and I want to help you so so much. But…you no hear me…you only sing…_ ”

Sing she did. I pressed close to her again, waiting longingly for a response I knew would not come.

After a full minute of pleading with her, I returned my eyes to Drago’s.

This was what he had captured me for. What he was using _Toothless_ for. More than that, though, I wanted like nothing else to do just as he said, to heal our elder, to heal the song dragons. The elder was so close I could touch her, and there was still _nothing_ , no hint of recognition, no hint of herself.  She was only an empty vessel, a shell of the proud, intelligent, overly-serious dragoness I had looked to for moons.

Now Drago would learn just how useless I really was…and then what?

“It’s not working,” I said, punctuating each word with a short pause. “I want to fix this, too, but—”

Drago’s face contorted with rage. With a real and inhuman growl, he lunged for my throat with his clawlike hands.

I stumbled away with a sharp yelp, nearly losing my balance and falling over. Drago seized his chance; he was upon me in seconds, sucking the light out of the room, his eyes glinting with madness.

I backpedaled, bared my teeth, and snarled, “ _Away!_ ”

Without hesitation, Drago raised his arm and roared with all of the breath in his lungs, “ _SUBMIT! SUBMIT! SUBMIT!_ ”

Even though I was expecting it, I couldn’t stop myself from flinching away, head lowered and teeth bared. Already tied up and knocked off-balance, it was all the distraction he needed.

His hand clamped around my neck, squeezing the breath out of me. My weak confidence fell away into nothingness. I wheezed as my vision filled with shadow-like spots and tried to wriggle out of his grasp. In moments, I was blind, my ears ringing, my skin breaking out into a cold sweat.

The world dissipated for a moment—and when it came back, I was sprawled on the ground, struggling to suck in the thin air. My skin was clammy and the strength sapped straight out of my limbs. I wheezed and coughed, blinking rapidly, but still I couldn’t see.

The shadows swarmed all across my vision—they were still choking me—I couldn’t feel _anything_ —they were killing me—!

“Do you want your friend to die?”

Drago towered over me, a great and dark mountain dominating my vision.

 “ _N-no!_ ” I choked. Then, my brain sluggishly catching up to my mistake, “No!”

Drago’s glare was cold and commanding. “You have one more chance. Or I add another pelt to my collection.”

A burning wave of horror charged through me, chasing away the shadows lingering at my mind’s edge. I snapped my head up, gasping breathlessly and trembling.

“I don’t—know—!” I heaved.

It was so dark. I could barely see, or breathe, or move, or...

Drago flared his Shadow-Blender cloak to make himself even _bigger_ and lifted his bullhook. Dread and panic consumed me. The song curled through my ears.

_No! No! Not again!_

I had to be strong. I had to fight back. I had to, or it would consume me again, I would submit to this monster again.

_Toothless._

The shadow swirled through my mind and vision, cackling at my weak defiance. But I forced myself to meet Drago’s empty stare, clawing everything else away. My head pounded with the effort, my heart raced so fast I thought it’d burst.

“I don’t know,” I heaved, my voice thin, “I promise you, I don’t know how to cure it, or what the source is, or—”

“Source?” Drago repeated, eyeing me. “And where did you hear of this?”

I clammed up. “Um...around…”

Drago caught the misdirection right away. “From dragons?” He said, looming over me and setting the point of his bullhook on my chest. “Where?”

I caught the scent of blood on it. My stomach flipped circles. I gagged and leaned away.

“Answer me!” Drago snapped. He lifted a foot and pounded it into my chest, just like the Color-Shifter had done only a day ago. A sharp cry of pain escaped me. “I am your Alpha! You obey me!”

“Just…dragons!” I gasped, cringing away and watching the bullhook from the corner of my eye. “ _They_ found me!”

Our eyes met again, and it was even harder this time under the crushing weight. But despite everything, I wasn’t about to hand the King’s nest over to this monster. I wasn’t going to tell him about them so that he could turn around and cage them up in this torturous place.

The look in his eyes made it clear that Drago knew that I was hiding something.

He stepped off of me. “Up!”

I lied there, still deadlocked on those eyes.

Drago’s lip curled up into a snarl, and he lifted his bullhook, spread his Shadow-Blender cloak, and growled, “ _Up!_ ”

I was almost frozen there, like the cold and the song had rendered me incapable of moving. The small defiance was exhilarating, warming me with just the slightest spark of hope.

Then his threats caught up with me. With a pained moan, I struggled to get my feet underneath me so that I could stand.

Drago lost his patience—not that he had any to begin with.

A sharp kick to the gut was my punishment. As I cried out and curled up there, he stooped down, snatched the rope in his talon-like hands, and pulled me up to my feet with it. My stomach churned, and suddenly I was grateful that there was nothing in it.

He shifted around so that he blocked the light from the door and leaned down, his face inches from mine. The song rang through my ears just as sharp as the pain springing from my abdomen.

“You are _mine_ ,” Drago said, his voice harsh and grating. “Do not forget that. I control you, _dragon-boy._ ”

“ _No,_ ” I said in a soft gasp. My body leaned away on its own accord, even as I struggled to remain where I was. It was like I was trying to be as sturdy as a stone against the ocean, but I was made of sand instead, a little more of me taken away with each crashing wave.

Drago leered as the moment stretched. I somehow managed to keep our eyes locked even as my body _screamed_ at me to turn and run as fast as I could. The shadow twisted and contorted in my vision and thoughts, waiting for the slightest opening.

I thought of Toothless. I drew his memory up and wrapped it around me in a cloak not of death and cold, but love and warmth.

“ _It is fine_ ,” I whispered, breathless and shaken but still here, still present instead of reduced to a frightened ball curled up on the ground, drowning in the past. It hurt—it was almost _unbearable_ —but I was _still here._

Drago drew back. He smirked.

“Have it your way, then.”

**o.O.o**

We were headed back the way we’d came.

I struggled long enough for Drago to stop and tighten the ropes around me. After that, he held it taut in his hands, always taking care to make sure it was so tight that it was basically choking me.

Instead of taking me back to the ship full of cages, Drago looped us towards one of the biggest ships we’d had the joy of visiting so far. It had an enormous tower rising out of it, and from that tower sprouted a balcony. We made our way up to it, climbing a winding staircase, and came to a stop just at the balcony’s edge. It overlooked almost the entire armada—the men, the dragons, the ships.

All covered in shadow. All cold and sharp as steel.

I swallowed as anxiety clutched at my heart. “Nice view,” I tried to say sarcastically, but it came out pitiful and breathless instead. My many hours of exhaustion and hunger were starting to catch up with me, and the ropes keeping me from breathing weren’t helping.

Drago merely chuckled and pointed directly below at a ship beneath us. Its deck had a large arena just like the one I’d been thrown into earlier. Nobody was in it.

That didn’t last long.

I heard the screeches first, echoing off the glaciers, ships, and metal like a phantom. I bolted upright, eyes wide, fatigue forgotten.

“No,” I breathed. “No!”

Drago let a victorious grin settle on his lips.

“I don’t know the cure!” I cried. “I don’t know where the source is!”

“Hm.”

The arena was opened.

Toothless was thrown in, screaming his spines off and throat glowing with fire. He whipped around towards the men who had dragged him into the arena, only to meet a wall of spears. He snarled vivid insults at them, so much so that the dragons milling around on the other ships lifted their heads in bafflement.

The arena doors clanged shut. Toothless paced at its entrance, searching for weak points and lunging at any men who got too close to the bars. But as much as he was trying to look in-control, he was completely exposed in there. His tail whipped and his wings fluttered, betraying his fear.

“Drago, _wait!_ ” I gasped.

“Oh?” He mused. “Have you remembered something important?”

I stepped in front of him to try to block his view of Toothless, like that could somehow keep my brother safe. “Just tell me what you want.”

Drago watched Toothless with a smug grin. “You have no place bargaining with me.” He turned his eyes on me. “I want _all_ of my dragons to follow my command. And that includes you.”

At that, he whipped around and stepped out towards an outcropping on the bird’s nest, looking out over an empty space in the armada. He raised the bullhook and swung it above his head.

“ _SUBMIT!_ ” He ordered to the frigid ocean below. “ _SUBMIT! SUBMIT!_ ”

I took a step back as cold energy crept up my spine. _This is not good. This is_ not _good._

A deep rumble rattled me down to my bones. My heart plummeted at its familiarity.

The inky waters surged, the ships rocked. The dragons on the other ships shrunk down to their bellies and the alleyways frothed as the sea dragons tried to swim away.

The ocean exploded into a gale of mist that raced to the tips of the glaciers surrounding the encampment. A rain of ice-cold water fell upon us. Metal hit metal in sudden, piercing rings. The ships groaned and creaked as huge waves crested over them.

I caught sight of amber eyes glowing in those mists. A dark form shifted as the miasma settled.

My mouth opened and closed, but all I could do was shake my head in horror and disbelief. I glanced over at Toothless, who was standing in a perfect arch and gaping at what had emerged from the ocean’s depths.

Covered in scars and metal chains, his spines drooping with fatigue, his young scales dull and paper-thin, his tusks cracked from the strain of his bindings, the mountain-sized dragon lowered his head and eyes in submission to Drago and whimpered a confused apology.

Even he was shrouded in shadows.

The dragon flicked his eyes up to me in curiosity and back down again. He was the same species as the King, but still much smaller—he hadn’t grown to his adult size yet.

Drago turned to me, his lopsided grin widening as he took in my expression. “This is the Alpha of all dragons,” he announced, pointing with his bullhook. The young King winced away. “And he looks to _me_ as _his_ Alpha.”

I met the young King’s eyes, and my heart filled with pity and empathy. “ _Hello_ ,” I greeted softly, doing everything I could to keep the fear out of my voice. “ _I’m a friend._ ”

The young King reared his head back, pupils thin with shock. Toothless followed my lead and shouted a much less gentle greeting to him, but he only briefly looked over at him before turning his baffled eyes back to me.

Drago chuckled. “Don’t bother, dragon-boy.” He pointed his bullhook. The young King and I followed it.

Toothless bared his teeth and lowered his head.

“You must learn,” Drago growled. “The Alpha is mine. And so are you.”

The young King shifted his attention to Toothless. The frills of his crown began to twitch, and his jaw began working up and down ever-so-slightly.

The rumbling returned, the very same one that I had noticed earlier. It was a _physical_ thing, shuddering deep into my bones, leaching into my ears. The entire armada rattled and trembled under the force of it.

Toothless jolted upright, his ears sticking straight up, and realization crashed into me.

“ _No!_ ” I shrieked. “ _No! Stop, please!_ ”

The young King glanced at me with the corners of his eyes and hunched over in defeat.

Toothless howled in defiance, shaking his head in a blur like a predator had pounced onto his back and he was trying to throw it off. He backed away, hissing and snapping at the air in a horrifying, rabid frenzy. His front legs gave out, and he clawed at his ears and writhed on the ground.

“ _TOOTHLESS!_ ” I heaved. I lurched away, only for the rope to pull taught.

Drago dragged me towards him, snatched my shoulders up in his claws, and held me there. “Watch,” he said in a quiet voice just behind me, sending the hair on my neck standing straight up and my skin crawling. “Watch, and learn what happens when you believe you have your own will.”

“ _Toothless! Fight!_ ” I almost sobbed, wringing around in Drago’s gasp. “ _I’m here! I know you can! Fight!_ ”

My brother wrinkled his nose and glared with slit eyes at the young King. “ _NO!_ ” he roared.

Drago’s hand tightened on my arm. Toothless squeezed his eyes shut, shaking with effort. A pained whine squeezed from his throat. It hurt more than any sword, more than any shadow that drowned me in its darkness. Panic rushed into my limbs.

I had to do something, I had to do something, I had to do _something!_

“ _STOP!_ ” I howled. I twisted to the side.

My teeth sunk into flesh.

Drago roared with fury and pain, throwing me aside.

The rumbling stopped, as did the vibrations shaking through my body. The young King stared at me in a mixture of fear and amazement.

Just below us, Toothless was curled up into a tight ball, claws gouging into his ears, his entire form trembling.

“ _Toothless!_ ” I cried, lurching up to my feet.

He didn’t respond. He just lied there.

Drago studied his bite wound with calm distaste. “I don’t know how you fooled all of Berk,” he spat. “Even if you were once…You’re not a human anymore, dragon-boy.”

The words stung much more than I expected them to.

Again, I felt the emptiness inside me, the shadow leering down at me. I wasn’t a human. I wasn’t a dragon. The pain that hurled me through had led us here, and now Toothless was…Toothless was…

This was my fault. I did this. If I’d just played along, listened to this monster, submitted to the shadow, then at least _I_ would be the only one reaping the penalties.

This dragon was the same species as the King. He had powerful magic. He had the ability to use said powerful magic to reach into a dragon’s mind, just as his elder had done to speak to me.

I had no doubt in my mind that he had just employed that exact power on Toothless by using the sheer, physical force of his voice to spread his magic.

“ _Toothless_ ,” I whispered, shaking and broken, pressing up as close to the balcony as I could. “ _Toothless! Please, talk to me!_ ”

“Your friend is mine now,” Drago pressed. “You have nothing left. Give up.” He tugged the rope and barked, “Come! Let us see how little you mean to him now!”

The short walk to the arena seemed to pass by in a heartbeat, I was so consumed with terror. The entire time, I refused to look away from Toothless, begging him to lift his head and send a sneer at the young King.

He was still huddled there, paws covering his head and wings drawn in, when Drago unlocked the arena. He sauntered right in, pulling me along like I was his sad, little pet.

“Now do you see?” Drago gloated, stepping right up to my fallen brother. “ _This_ is what you are.”

“No…” I breathed. “ _Toothless…_ ”

“You are mine, and so is he.” Drago set me with a cruel grin. He lifted a foot and planted it firmly on Toothless’ forehead.

A bolt of rage zipped through me. “Get off him!” I snarled for all I was worth, baring my teeth.

Drago lifted his bullhook and placed it on Toothless’ neck. “Mind yourself, dragon-boy,” he hissed. “You can talk, but that doesn’t mean your words are worth anything.”

“Then why go through this?” I demanded, my throat welling up and my voice shrill. “I already told you I’d do what you wanted!”

Drago’s lip curled. “You should be thanking me,” he said. “I could _kill_ your friend, if you’d like.” He laughed as I stiffened. “Now, then, dragon-boy…tell me the _full_ story.”

Toothless clamped his teeth around Drago’s leg.

My heart had barely had the chance to leap with joy by the time Toothless had reared to his hind legs and launched Drago away, opening his wings with a victorious screech.

“ _TOOTHLESS!_ ” I exclaimed, rushing to him. He fell to his four paws, whipped towards me, and snapped his teeth at me.

The rope fell to my feet, and I could finally _breathe_ again. I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“ _I’m so sorry,_ ” I said.

“ _Me too_ ,” Toothless whimpered guiltily, returning the hug. “ _I needed to pretend._ ”

Together, we faced Drago.

He’d gotten to his feet, his leg dripping with dark blood. His face was twisted with hatred and malice, stark shadows shooting across his features and making him look just as much a monster as he actually was. The young King had risen up behind him, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. Above us, men had gathered to watch, their eyes bugging out and hands resting on their weapons. I spotted Eret among them.

“ _How?_ ” Drago growled, his dead eyes almost glowing with rage. He pointed his bullhook at us again. The young King reared and opened his maw wide, waves of crystallized frost twirling around in it.

“We _are Kings!_ ” Toothless roared. He shot his fire.

So did the young King.

Freezing ice clashed against searing fire directly in front of Drago, sending a burning-cold explosion through the arena. Steam rose around us.

We turned tail and ran towards the entrance. The door was shut—and locked. I reached through the bars and tried to feel around for something to lift, but the locking mechanism was too heavy. Drago was screaming orders. Dark shadows flitted about in the steam.

A figure drew closer from the outside. Toothless growled and, a moment too late, I wrenched my hand back and turned away.

Eret lunged at me, grabbed my shoulders, and pulled me against the bars. He fumbled around for a second, trying to find a good place to grip—and then a sharp knife was pressed against my neck.

“I got ‘em!” He shouted.

Toothless pounded his claws against the cage, just inches from gouging into Eret’s neck.

He must of snarled something at Eret—but I never heard it.

An all-consuming roar blasted through the air. It was so loud that it had a pressure to it, forcing me down. It drowned out everything else, from Drago’s commands to the ringing in my ears.

The sky above blotted out as a wave of fog rushed through it like a tsunami. A torrent of cold rammed into me like a charging bull.

Immediately following it was a vibration of the air, something similar to the young King’s magic but grander and ethereal. It didn’t vibrate through my body like the young King’s spell did. It wasn’t physical at all, but something almost like the shadow, something that wasn’t _real_ but still was all the same. It cut _deep_ , straight through my panicked, scrambling thoughts, and tried to take root there.

It was the same _thing_ I had felt last time, right before I had flown directly towards Bertha’s ships.

I knew what would follow.

The ship lurched underneath us like we were in the middle of an earthquake. Eret’s grip loosened. I ripped away from him and threw myself at Toothless, wrapping my arms around his ears. We pressed up against each other as the vibrations got louder, filling my head with the sound of a thousand insect wings and making my skin prickle. Dizziness made the world sway.

I squinted up through the fog and was met with the sight of the young King rearing to his full height. His back was turned towards us and his paws were braced against the tops of the glaciers.

He flared the fins on his sides and sent an avalanche of ice down into the ocean.

The vibrations increased in intensity. Toothless and I clutched onto each other like it was poison that would consume us if we let go.

The young King swayed. He shook his head, his frills flopping around. It wasn’t him. He was just as disorientated as we were, just as vulnerable...and he had nobody to turn to for help.

With panicked eyes, he shot more ice into the ocean. Another pounding wave made everything turn to blurs. Every creature in the vicinity crashed to the ground. There was a second world-consuming roar.

I clenched my eyes shut and pressed my forehead against Toothless’, holding his ears and side-frills as tight as I could. He leaned into me with clenched teeth. My head spun at dizzying speeds. I tried to focus on something— _anything_ —but whatever it was barraged my every thought. With every attempt to ignore it, it became all the more obvious in my mind.

We braced ourselves against the deluge.

The feeling began to fade.

At some point, Toothless and I had both fallen to the ground, holding each other close as we tried to fight it off. The entire world felt so unsteady that I was almost afraid to try to stand up again, like the moment I got my feet underneath me I’d just get knocked back over again.

Toothless jolted, eyes wide, and bared his teeth behind me. I couldn’t hear his hiss—the roar and vibrations still echoed in my ears, muffling everything out.

I whipped around in time to see a wave of men pouring into the arena. To see them rushing in and not hear anything—not even the pounding of my heart—was a horrifying feeling. I struggled to my feet just in time for them to surround us.

Eret was leading them. The majority of them were his men, the whole group of them shooting concerned looks over their shoulders at where Drago had been last. He made sure I was looking at him, and then pointedly focused on my flightsuit.

Toothless collapsed to the ground.

“ _Toothless!_ ” I gasped. I couldn’t hear my own voice.

Three colorful darts were sticking out of his neck. I ripped them out as fast as I could, but the damage was done. He flopped his wings and tail around as he struggled to rise to his feet.

By the time I’d turned back to Eret, Drago was standing at his side, the young King looming above with wide, terrified eyes.

Drago didn’t look surprised—if anything, he had a look of recognition on his face. He narrowed his eyes at me and gestured at Eret and his men.

The swarm flooded in. My head whirled with confusion and disorientation.

Hands grasped at me, holding me in place. I was shoved back as men thrust me out of the arena. Toothless was wrapped up in ropes again and forced groggily to his feet, his tail and wings dragging and his nose nearly pressing into the ground.

Back onto a ship we were lead—back down a ramp into the hull—back into dark and cold cages—all in a world as silent as death. Shadows swirled around us.

Toothless was unconscious by the time the team of men had hauled him into his cage. The Color-Shifter was pressed up against the back end of his own confinement, curled up and unmoving.

Eret was the one to throw me in my cage. Again, he looked into me meaningfully, like he thought I would launch at him and sink my teeth into him. His hands lingered on my shoulders in a firm grip.

I shrunk away, trying to hide my hands from view. Somehow, in the confused aftermath of… _whatever_ that was, nobody had remembered to tie them up.

As if reading my mind, Eret glanced right down at my very-not-tied-up hands.

He grinned dashingly, backed up, and shut the cage. Without another word—not that he _could_ talk when all of us couldn’t hear anything—he left with his men. The door outside was closed, leaving me in nothingness, dazed and chest tight with anxiety.

I had an idea of what that fog meant. Why the young King had fired at the empty ocean.

I clutched at my chest as I struggled to breathe—only to jump when my fingers brushed against something that I definitely had _not_ put there.

It felt like ages ago that I’d crafted my flightsuit. Back then, I’d clumsily added pockets to it so that I could store needle and thread in case my wings ripped open.

Now I reached into my pocket. My fingers brushed against the cold metal.

I pulled it out and grasped it in my hands, my mouth parted with amazement.

Eret hadn’t forgotten to tie my hands up. He hadn’t been staring at me so much in search of retaliation. He hadn’t been the first to try to recapture us for mere glory. He hadn’t locked Toothless and me up in the same ship again because there was nowhere else to put us.

But he had given me a key.


End file.
